BIO
Author C. R. Tsiailis was born in Nicosia, Cyprus, in 1974. He is an English teacher but his passion for writing consumes most of his time, when he is not out training as a triathlete. He travels a lot, recording memories from everywhere, which he incarnates along with his observations on human behaviour, in all genres (poetry, short story, novel, theatre) . His writing tends towards a blend of social, psychological and philosophical quest.
His publications include poems in literary magazines ‘Anagnostis’, ‘ArtAdsence’, ‘Dianysma’, ‘Rogmes’, ‘Parousia’, ‘Poets and Dreamers’, short stories in literary magazines ‘Parathyro’, ‘Fractal’, ‘Kefalos’, ‘In Focus’, poems in the poetry Anthology ‘4th Team Poetry Anthology of Dianysma Publishing House’ and short stories in anthologies ‘Athens this evening’, ‘To Epos Tou Fantastikou: Adiexodo’, ‘1st Cyprus Fiction Anthology: The River of Time’, ‘Paraxenoi Erotes’, haikus in ‘Diaspora Anthology’ in Australia and flash fiction in postcard project ‘From Cyprus With Love’. He has received numerous distinctions in Panhellenic literary contests for poems, short stories and theatre plays. He also writes articles, interviews of artists and book reviews for Literary Magazines in Greece. He is occasionally a member of Panhellenic literary contests’ committees.
twitter: @tsiailisworld
blog: www.tsiailisworld.blogspot.com
facebook: https: //www.facebook.com/c.r.tsiailis/
e-mail: chrisma4el@cytanet.com.cy
Three months in the clinic, one should be ready. I look down on you, one more escapade, to go down on you, and sharpen the blade.
[I did not know my nails would have grown so strong].
I grab you -both hands- to feel the skin and fatty, pillow-like juice. I shake you and I pull you out -you nasty rubber- you pull back in. How much bigger can you get? I inhale too deeply for my strength -anymore- and push the air to swell you, happy moments for my kids, indeed. Magnificent, so many years’ confusion. I do not know how the struggles have gotten me here, the struggles of too little food, or the struggles of too many a food.
The fool inside you, is he still there? Memory of a lifetime gulping, shame, retreat. I soothe the grabbing, squeeze a strange spot in a wrinkle and cuddle the umbilical cord.
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