אברה (wingeater)
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wingeater.bsky.social
אברה (wingeater)
@wingeater.bsky.social
248 limbs/365 vessels
angel gore recycling system; ash-grey feathers
/not a girl/
https://wingeater.itch.io/
art by vich
Pinned
copper tracery in black
rubber sheath,
(inevitably,
it calls out,)
white
mucus/milk/maggot/
maw-dripping light
and you anticipate,
burning
on tongue-tip
the specter
of lime-blue walls
and the
Reposted by אברה (wingeater)
for real, though. I'm looking for an affordable (definition flexible) place to live with these guys, starting march 1st. I can be normal. but I figure I might as well give the sales pitch of being weird and esoteric too. really any place that I can be reasonably comfortable with the cats works, tbh
any cat-friendly temples in the seattle area looking for an oracle
February 3, 2026 at 3:27 PM
white,[] ochre[] starveling[] silt[] articulation of nothingness,[] relapsing[] font of[] ashes[] in splendour,[] through the air[] in all his ghastly glory[] obscured by smoke and starshell[
February 3, 2026 at 2:21 PM
gliss-blue,
yawning streaks ,
scab-crescent, tucked
into curving pale—
glimmering green
ripples featherlight
in,

(swallowing handfuls of sand)

grisaille-on-reflection,
yawing threads
slick white
where she cuts lines,
dusted grey,
February 3, 2026 at 12:42 PM
clouds of carrion
patiently blue, terrible
scraping black unease,
arid sirocco
strews ashen auguries on
oxide-red sandstone
saltstreaking touches
on carefully fitted stone
like gulls in iron skies
February 3, 2026 at 11:59 AM
like gull shit on sea rocks
I will tarnish your skin
with my embrace,
February 2, 2026 at 9:12 PM
sky-immured,
ash softly gleaming
with the electrum spill
of golden wounds—

sword-tongued
beneath white infection,
the blossom
of subtler worships,

refracted bloodsplay,
opening, and opening,
and-you-shall/with all—
arcing, soft,
February 2, 2026 at 11:59 AM
going wasp mode on some figs
February 1, 2026 at 11:55 PM
"looks like it enjoys fisting" -roommate
obviously lappet-faced vultures are gay. they never had to come out.
February 1, 2026 at 7:26 PM
yeah
someone should buy me some milk and then tie me up and make me bleed
February 1, 2026 at 6:44 PM
Reposted by אברה (wingeater)
my tongues are, however, coffee-traced
February 1, 2026 at 2:50 PM
maqom habrit but it's the scars between my tongues
February 1, 2026 at 2:56 PM
Reposted by אברה (wingeater)
as far as I can tell, there is no *specific* rule against fucking the wind turbines ^-^
February 1, 2026 at 1:33 PM
shaking, but entranced—
delicate curves, and graceful,
star-crossed horizon,
perimeter
February 1, 2026 at 1:31 PM
slapping at their glistening holes[] wings folded[] inside the pale haze[] the filigree of scratches[] could have flown[] behind several more layers of[] arching suspension[] stroked with[] crushed flowers[] their blood[] in the sunlight[] brazen[] carefully slicing holes[] flicking a pattern[
February 1, 2026 at 5:34 AM
holy shit what happened to discretion or plausible deniability?

crazy to still be working in the family trade when the family trade is "being openly funded by foreign fascists to try to destroy your home country"
Tatler profiled Louis Mosley, Oswald Mosley's grandson and the CEO of Palantir UK. They describe Palantir as a "sleek software company"

We're way beyond the populist hype at this point. Fascism is quickly being normalised in mainstream UK publications. Tatler is a staple of British 'high society.'
January 30, 2026 at 11:58 AM
animals were not meant to live this long
January 30, 2026 at 10:39 AM
obligate sanctivore
aww I'm never gonna see what happens when spiderlings are forced to subsist on the angels Aquinas made dance on a pinhead
January 30, 2026 at 1:15 AM
Reposted by אברה (wingeater)
all adverts should have mandatory gore
January 29, 2026 at 9:15 PM
never let the need to get work done interfere with being shiny and black
ok 🩶🖤🩶
January 29, 2026 at 4:03 PM
glass flow
over broken chair;
like a quiet kiss
on old, rotting wounds
indigo on rubberblack,
cold masonry touching,
slowly, the edge staining,
anxiety-rot star-crimson
spitting, convulsively, on
skin-white basins, dark
on grey-pale shadows.
January 28, 2026 at 11:43 PM
the city drips slowly into your throat, grinding you thin, a Rothko of oil clotted with soot on machined steel
(postindustrial
blight, spoilheap, & razorwire;
corroded landscapes)
January 28, 2026 at 12:13 PM
] plumage, milkthickened, that unpronounceable slick red mud of mortal flowering, the reeking petals of milk ink, pelvis like cracked prophecy in flight, wings beneath blood like blood unaccustomed to blood blood blood petals of cumdewed tongue; Teeth Limned [

from the fifth wound, redacted heavily
January 28, 2026 at 1:42 AM
thindrawn, all
cutting moth pheromones,
quenched in threshwound
(the lamb, having been—)
falls, slicing,
between casements,
burning in white lead

and the soft trace of dust,
raving, leadclothed,
tumbles garnet,
consumptive,
through slick-feathered throats
Don't mistake waning
for weakness. She's not
disappearing.
She's concentrating. Distilling
herself to pure
appetite. The Irreducible.
Fangs in the heart of want. Incisors that remain when all that is soft burns away.

Faultless, inside. Fatted.
Pink lambneck of a threshing world.

#vss365 #wane
January 27, 2026 at 7:15 PM
a reasonable Hebrew speaker might see my name, אברה, and conclude that I'm yet another queer whose name is a 4-letter object such as Skye, Sock, Soup, Moss,b and so forth

but actually I was named for the Ibarra brand of hot chocolate, that I too might be delicious and comforting, and from Mexico,
January 27, 2026 at 6:29 PM
pronouncing enough like إنوغ
January 27, 2026 at 4:22 PM