Margaret Atwood, From "Three Desk Objects", Selected Poems : 1965-1975

“My love is honey tongue. Dandelion wine in a pitcher. Thirsty love. My love licks it’s fingers before it has even fed. My love is peach juice dripping down the neck. Too much sugar love. Cavity love. Toothache, tummy ache love. Soft hands holding the jaw open love. Summer love. Sticky sweet, sticky sweat love. My love can’t ride a bike. My love walks everywhere. Wanders through the river. Feeds the fish, skips the stones. Barefoot love. My love stretches itself out on the grass, kisses a nectarine. My love is never waiting. My love is a traveller, a fruit-eater, a holder. My love is alive. Warm. It lives. It breathes.”

— Caitlyn Siehl, Warm after “Love, Gravity, and Other Forces” by Anita Ofokansi (via alonesomes)

Kaveh Akbar, from “Despite My Efforts Even My Prayers Have Turned into Threats“

“If a monster falls in love with another monster, is it desire? Is it fate? It’s tragedy.”

— thoughts #130 | r.m (via twofacedharveydent)

and the bitterness in goodbye

“The sadness of the past is with me always.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald (via therepublicofletters)

richard siken / salma deera / jen mazza / joy ladin

when margaret atwood said “i'm sorry there is so much pain in this story” and richard siken said “there is no other version of this story” and mary oliver said “you don’t want to hear the story of my life, and anyway, i don’t want to tell it”

wolves without teeth // of monsters and men

I don’t know how to live in this world lightly.

Some memories I grip too tight,

Some crush my shoulders.

- This Anatomy of Melancholy #2 // L.H.Z