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"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. 19. second-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.
i want
to do with you what spring does
with the cherry trees."

"i control the masses with metaphors, that's MASSIVE."

honeylungs