You Drift Between Earth And Death Which Seem, Finally, Strangely Alike.

Reading list for my travels through Italy: - War of the Foxes by Richard Siken - Life On Mars by Tracy K Smith (rereading it <3) - The New Testament by Jericho Brown - A Season In Hell by Arthur Rimbaud any suggestions?!!!

Flowers which as in a dream at sunset I watered faithfully not knowing how much I loved them. I am so lonely in my glory.

Allen Ginsberg, “Transcription of Organ Music,” Howl (via millionen)

I. Black and white, I dream of hands I’ve never felt, the ghost of lips trace over my skin and it almost feels like a promise if I clench my teeth hard enough. II. We are both breathing the same stardust from a galaxy away, every inhale an unspoken ‘I love you,’ every exhale an ‘I’m sorry, I love him more.’ III. The stars continue to burn but I am already ashes. You are forever Apollo, rising in the East and I am falling like lukewarm snowflakes. IV. You don’t sleep enough to dream of my hand against your throat, you begging me to make you mortal- you never will be. You will forget about this. V. I will not. VI. Cassandra warned me not to love you and if I clench my teeth hard enough, I can pretend I never did.

oh, well isn’t this a tragedy || O.L. (via poetbitesback)

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)

“The word ‘naked’ is a translation of the Hebrew erom, which is used to describe a state of being stripped or vulnerable, and is without sexual connotation. 

[…]

Called out by God, Adam says: ‘I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.’ His nakedness, erom, merely implies vulnerability. Perhaps Adam and Eve hid from God not because they were suddenly prudish, nor because their disobedience had been found out, but because they realised their fragility and insignificance. They were exposed, not as sexual beings but as mortal ones.”

The Genesis of Blame, Anne Enright

It occurred to me last night, while the moon cried for Xanax, how maybe if I focused hard enough for the right amount of time, I might learn to accept the fragments you left. Perhaps one of these tomorrows will find me walking into the ghosts of you the way I now walk into that cold Parisian rain: compliant and composed, unbothered despite every pore on this skin that clothes my bones begging me to bathe under the fires of the sun.

Jezzini (Parisian Rain on Orbit(X))

part of scientists fear is inspired on a story my neighbor told me about this boy she used to date. last nite i gave her a copy of my new zine & just got a text from her saying that particular poem was her fav. poetry whispers names and memories to people.  

maghrib at home

Mouna Kalla-Sacranie © more here