hyeoni-comb:

cloudswamp:

there is only one of everything, margaret atwood

[text reads:
“I look out at you and you occur
in this winter kitchen, random as trees or sentences,
entering me, fading like them, in time you will disappear

but the way you dance by yourself
on the tile floor to a worn song, flat and mournful,
so delighted, spoon waved in one hand, wisps of
roughened hair

sticking up from your head, it’s your surprised
body, pleasure I like. I can even say it,
though only once and it won’t

last: I want this. I want
this.”]

flowerytale:

Sharon Olds, from “Little Things”; Strike Sparks: Selected Poems, 1980-2002

weltenwellen:

Mary Oliver, from “Hum Hum”, A Thousand Mornings

dawnsfragrance:

(via neckkiss)

metamorphesque:

Faith, Czesław Miłosz, Robert Hass (translator)

metamorphesque:

ALT

ALT

fyodor dostoevsky (the brothers karamazov), charles bukowski (a vote for the gentle light)

(via hotmailmyheart)

theclassicsreader:

Why is the measure of love loss?

— Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body

(via hotmailmyheart)

instantgoddess:

Marilyn Monroe

& when the hillsides grow golden

& the poison oak begins to unravel

I’m reminded of the first winter here, turned spring

the one I spent shaping molding— folding.

into anything that mirrored this gold

This lightness

This effortless forgiveness of the winter abandon.

curls from darkness to sunshine

completely chopped

breaking my fastest pace

counting my miles

till my body asked me ‘why’

hoping the thoughts/the truth would fade away

with something so physical.