February 2011
nicolerichie-:
January 2011
“When the boy’s head, full of raw torment,
Longs for hazy dreams to swarm in...”
– The Seekers of Life, Arthur Rimbaud (via dialogues)
“I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I...”
– Lisa Kleypas (via slychedelic)
Sport
wwnorton:
“I want to touch his eyes,” she said, “I mean the skin around them, those heavy smudges under his eyes. I want to touch them with my tongue.”
There’s a sport: longing. It contains its own distance Gulf filled with water, black, bruised and cold. Water to swim in.
Devouring water, it’s what her heart has been pumping instead of blood. This is a pleasure trip, this drowning. But she...
unholyrhythms:
As they worked, from morning...
“I promise to make you so alive that the fall of dust on furniture will deafen...”
– Nina Cassian, The New Shelton wet/dry (via nevver)
“I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The...”
– T.S. Eliot, from “Preludes” (via liquidnight)
