罪人 + 情人

reblog   source:lestwedivide  madelinegbr   notes:1734   posted:1 week ago  

Rene Magritte, Le 16 Septembre
reblog   source:likeafieldmouse  reavemearone   notes:1475   posted:1 week ago  
reblog   source:girlplanties  sharpedlamb   notes:141807   posted:1 week ago  


Love isn’t about
   fucking each other
at any opportunity.

It also isn’t about
  how many months
or years
  that you’ve been together.

To me,
  love is about 
being able to see light
  inside of the person
who knows nothing
   but darkness.

reblog   source:abbyfrommelb  sharpedlamb   notes:260110   posted:1 week ago  
reblog   source:sixty-nining  sharpedlamb   notes:72441   posted:1 week ago  


I told you that I was a roadway of potholes, not safe to cross. You said nothing, showed up in my driveway wearing roller-skates.


The first time I asked you on a date, after you hung up, I held the air between our phones against my ear and whispered, “You will fall in love with me. Then, just months later, you will fall out. I will pretend the entire time that I don’t know it’s coming.”


Once, I got naked and danced around your bedroom, awkward and safe. You did the same. We held each other without hesitation and flailed lovely. This was vulnerability foreplay.


The last eight times I told you I loved you, they sounded like apologies.


You recorded me a CD of you repeating, “You are beautiful.” I listened to it until I no longer thought in my own voice.


Into the half-empty phone line, I whispered, “We will wake up believing the worst in each other. We will spit shrapnel at each other’s hearts. The bruises will lodge somewhere we don’t know how to look for and I will still pretend I don’t know its coming.”


You photographed my eyebrow shapes and turned them into flashcards: mood on one side, correct response on the other. You studied them until you knew when to stay silent.


I bought you an entire bakery so that we could eat nothing but breakfast for a week. Breakfast, untainted by the day ahead, was when we still smiled at each other as if we meant it.


I whispered, “I will latch on like a deadbolt to a door and tell you it is only because I want to protect you. Really, I’m afraid that without you I mean nothing.”


I gave you a bouquet of plane tickets so I could practice the feeling of watching you leave.


I picked you up from the airport limping. In your absence, I’d forgotten how to walk. When I collapsed at your feet, you refused to look at me until I learned to stand up without your help.


Too scared to move, I stared while you set fire to your apartment – its walls decaying beyond repair, roaches invading the corpse of your bedroom. You tossed all the faulty appliances through the smoke out your window, screaming that you couldn’t handle choking on one more thing that wouldn’t just fix himself.


I whispered, “We will each weed through the last year and try to spot the moment we began breaking. We will repel sprint away from each other. Your voice will take months to drain out from my ears. You will throw away your notebook of tally marks from each time you wondered if I was worth the work. The invisible bruises will finally surface and I will still pretend that I didn’t know it was coming.”


The entire time, I was only pretending that I knew it was coming.

- Miles Walser, “A Sonnet of Invented Memories”

He says to me ‘you feel restless during thunderstorms because they negatively charge the ions in the air. The entire fabric of your being is being changed by the sky. Isn’t that something?’
I think on this and run my finger from the top of his forehead to the bridge of his nose and kiss him there. Gently feel all my insides begin to unravel at the contact.
I laugh and say ‘that explains it then.’
He smiles and murmurs ‘what?’
The sigh falls out of my mouth like a prayer, ‘it explains you.’

- Azra.T “Physics.”
reblog   source:thelovenotebook  sharpedlamb   notes:540   posted:2 weeks ago  

ugh, lindsay bottos 
reblog   notes:10945   posted:2 weeks ago  
reblog   source:mellow-anmn  oceantides   notes:42615   posted:2 weeks ago  
reblog   source:sterility  sleepyfoxx   notes:5825   posted:2 weeks ago  

Wild honey smells of freedom
The dust - of sunlight
The mouth of a young girl, like a violet
But gold - smells of nothing.

- Anna Akhmatova

Jil Sander by Alexandra Levasseur
reblog   source:showstudio  coffeekaling   notes:4192   posted:2 weeks ago  



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