Blanket-Covered Truffles, poetry by Akrivi Skellaridi at
Chris Yang

Blanket-Covered Truffles

(Blanket-Covered Truffles)

written by: Akri



There is a wave of distortion
Like it touched everything and it said something and we said ‘oh no’
Much more peaceful in airplane mode
Nice to meet you, thank you, back to the Women’s Lodge
We are in a big jelly, it’s fun not moving it
and doing it
I keep whatever the keyboard suggests
We are all here
and my hands are tired
This is fun

My hands are branches made of mud
limits soft and malleable
I have no mouth, it feels closed
Am I a fish?
I’m like the big stone fish
The keyboard looks like a mall, I see the metaverse and the afterlife
Looks fun
Need for translation
But what to translate since I have no mouth
I just have a body
and nerve endings on the lips
I feel the sense of ‘being’ and ‘missing’
But it has no hue, it’s just a sense
The hand and the blanket make a cave
and a beautiful desert lies outside
There is a city on the other side
with many levels
Where they speak french
and revel

I feel extremely healthy here
I think of how it will be
When I get back and go outside
and walk on crossings
and hear the planes
It won’t be that bad
I have my breath
It’s always with me
I am mud
I always am

The tension is fine
I can also be relaxed
Got my magic, too
I am a doer, I always am
I make, I talk
without talking
I am grateful
For this corner
For this knowledge
For everything
Though I don’t know if these fit in frames of gratitude
I want another word as a translator
Just attitude?

Immense balance
Just breathe, look
We can be anything
As we are everything
Something that lifts a moment
Call it a stair
Then it goes down
A small tent
Finds cover in the sheets
The phone grounds
Sobers while it unsticks
Flight mood for the duration of the flight

I touch my boobs and belly a lot
Feel like a lucky pot
It is disassociating in a strange way, being on the phone
A death in a way
So many connections cut
not lost
just cut
I am not grieving I think
But there is pain
What is the crows’word for pain?
The mushrooms’ I think ‘belly’

I am whole
no parts missing
I have some extra parts called clothes

I’d like to make and wear shroom clothes
feels soft
I can grow, self-multiply
Feel like a bee hive
Wisdom from everywhere, roots everywhere
There is no enemy
Sometimes I get excited
Sometimes just chill
No judgment
There is nice frequency music in this world if you stop to listen
The tss tss of air
The person-made tones
The blanket of static
The airplanes
Nice frequencies
Nice tunes

I think ‘love’ and see a huge cavity with a huge green lung
shaped like a sculpture but very polished
And we are so tiny next to it
To dream frequently and to remember I want
To stoically alter what violently goes and bestirs me I want
There is no violence here
Non-violent communication
Non-violent house
Non-violent self
Skip the ns
I’m just violet

Shrooms are growing from my belly
as should be
I am a tree
I like being a person also
It is funny to use symbols
break everything into bits and pieces
We are a bit like shrooms
sister functions
Or another word for function, action?

Well, fun’s nice now that I see it
It is healing and I feel it

Forest merging with grid
at the edge, we meet
or in the star of this path
where my screen reflects the park
That’s enjoyable
Forgive and forget
I ‘get’ the feeling, but curious terms to describe the world by
etymologically, too
Experience and remember
This is me, what are you?
How is?

Opened the data for a card
Ended up sharing a love

I want silence or to get used to it
Feel unready to fall back into the world
But I want to, too
It’ll be fine

Dreamer and doer
In collective

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