"i will therefore let flame from me the burning fires that were threatening to consume me;
i will lift what has too long kept down those smouldering fires;
i will give them complete abandonment.
i will write the evangel-poem of comrades and of love,
for who but i should understand love with all its sorrow and joy?
and who but i should be the poet of comrades?"
stina. 21. fourth-year english and film double major at the university of toronto. my first and only love is art. in three words i am open, ready, and willing. in four, i am aggressive where it counts. my favourite activities are kissing in darkroom, prowling for vinyl, and small (yet significant) road trips. my main interests (in a particular order) are poetry, music, photography, sex, and chronic. i am well-versed in creating incredible edibles and recognize a bong as not only art, but ritual. to me, i own few possessions more intricate, and have few experiences more intimate than two people, a bong, and a bed. i'm not fussy with strains but i appreciate grades; i can smell kush through two doors and a flight of stairs. i often find enjoyment in the physical, sensory experiences of saying certain words: my favourite letters are v, s, and l, and i love the full-mouth-feel of the word visceral. i flaunt the ability to use language as though it were specific to my tongue; i purr in verse. i believe that i was put on this earth to do two things: make love, and write poetry.
"my words rained over you, stroking you.
a long time i have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body;
i go so far as to think you own the universe.
i will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, rustic baskets of kisses.
to do with you what spring does
with the cherry trees."
"i control the masses with metaphors, that's MASSIVE."
"never forget what they did to you, never let them know you remember."