Daughter of a Dog- Basilike Pappa

Daughter of a Dog - Pinterest.jpg

You call me cinnamon, red apple, myrrh.


I only call you by your name.


And then you grasp tighter. You bite harder. You work faster than neurotransmitters, adrenal glands, caudate nucleus. You go deeper than all the waters in the world.


You call me sunlighter, voltage, song.


I call upon you, prefrontal cortex almighty: deliver me from chemical deception; for my veins are the pathways he travels, and my heart opens its chambers to receive him; and even though I claim to be a departure, I keep coming back as an electric negative night after night after night.


Abrupt tempo change. Hardcore drumming. Mouth feeding, drinking, spitting, touching. Full-volume assault.


Horizon cracks a scarlet stare and we in hymenean delirium, sinking a blade into time. Forever bound to this dark epoch dressed as youth, we are candles burning every grain of the past, every claim the future may have on us. Wreaths of breath around our minds, the secret fever blossoms silence on our lips. As I lie in your arms, universe becomes a pseudonym for home.


You call me love.


But love is a head-hunter – harder than catching a bird, or building a ladder to the moon.


So I only call you by your name.


And then you call me a daughter of a dog.

Basilike Pappa lives in Greece. She likes her coffee black, her walls painted green and blue, her books old or new. She despises yellow curtains and red tape. She can’t live without chocolate, flowers and her dog. Places she can be found are: kitchen, office, living room. If she’s not at home, I don’t know where she is. You can find Basilike up late with a notebook in the Silent Hour.

53 thoughts on “Daughter of a Dog- Basilike Pappa

      • Ah ha …. with a Croatian father I still recall some harsh versions of this that seared my developing tonsils! Perhaps it’s time to gargle once again lol 😝

        Liked by 2 people

      • I had no idea there was a kind of Raki in Croatia! But I guess there are many versions of this drink in this part of the world.
        In Epirus and Thessaly (where I’m from and where I live) we drink Tsipouro, which is stronger than Raki. The latter is mostly made in Crete. It’s the mildest version in Greece, I think. And it’s almost psychedelic. If the Raki is good, you can drink your ass, be very happy and all laughs, and wake up the next day completely normal — not even a headache.
        Whatever you do, drink in small sips and eat in between them, or the magic won’t work!


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