on my way to the airport to pick up my mother. her first time in Europe, her first time crossing an entire ocean... we haven't seen each other in almost two years & it all feels as if i'm defying the rules of existing; bodies usually explode when exposed to such levels of luminous love & nostalgia
there are some stains only a dark rain can make.
Stacey Waite, from “when someone asks if you believe what you just said,” the lake has no saint (Tupelo Press, 2010)
please could you be tender and I will sit close to you let’s give it a minute before we admit that we’re through
hard feelings/ loveless, lorde
Prayers and mantras will be blown by the wind and emit positive spiritual vibrations… Namaste 🙏🏼 at 5.357m http://ift.tt/2w44udz
I couldn’t quite comprehend what betrayal was, but suddenly with your knife in my back - betrayal has never tasted so bittersweet.
j.b.r - 17.05.16 (via lucid-vissions)
with a hand on the window frame, you looked out at the night sky. & turning your head toward me, you said there was this theory about the universe being ever e x p a n d i n g.
that every star, planet, galaxy & blackhole currently alive, is endlessly drifting apart from it all.
as though in their hovering for distance, in their majestic swaying through stellar matter, every atom of the universe claimed independence from our shared existence.
that same night our last the spellbinding vibes in your beauty & that rant over the cosmos, walked me into a laberynth of oblivion; cause what i forgot to tell you & what you didn’t seem to know, was that there is another theory out there: an antithesis on the dynamics of the universe.
scientists suspect the universe will eventually stop its expansion to begin its c o n t r a c t i o n. exactly as the ball vertically thrown to reach the sky, that at a certain height surrenders to gravity & starts its way down.
scientists fear that every star & planet & galaxy & blackhole will shrink into a single spot in place & time. a sort of big bang in reverse. outside going in.
boom
which is to say: you fled away from me to smash piece by piece the things we had built. i guess in some shape or form we mimicked the universe by drifting away from each other; by sitting on opposite edges of this galaxy; dodging our own asteroids; breathing distant stardust & riding comets that might never cross paths.
imagine, just imagine that these scientists’ fear comes true & all we know to exist begins to compress; will the universe then bring us back to where we were?
a massive clash. gallactic friction.
cosmos to cosmos, blackhole to blackhole, planet to planet, & lips to lips.
hey, this might just be the universe reminding us that we are destined to collide.
- @skinthepoet
I am trying to learn how to give and foster forgiveness in a body that wants none of it.
Sierra DeMulder, For My Niece Livia, Age 8 (via cactuslungs)
Both colour and language have their mundane, pragmatic, adaptive functions; we use colour to recognise objects in our environment, and we use language for everyday communication. But in painting and poetry, colour and language become as it were aware of themselves; it is indeed as though they know themselves better than any human being possibly could.
Elena Maslova-Levin, ‘Rainer Maria Rilke on Colour and Self-Awareness’ (via thebluesthour)
…for we are in such fragile skin, so close to getting lost in the in-between.
Eimear McBride, from The Lesser Bohemians (via luthienne)