Tell Me, Atlas.

I hope, or I could not live.

H.G. Wells, The Island of Dr. Moreau (via kerryquotesquotes)

scientists fear

with your 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 planet, star, galaxy & blackhole out there, is relentlessly drifting apart from it all.

as though in their hovering for distance, in their majestic swaying through star clusters, every bit of the universe claimed independence from our shared existence.

that same night our last the hypnotic effect of your beauty & that ranting over the cosmos, must have strangled my senses out. cause what i forgot to tell you or what you didn't seem to know, was that there is a counter-theory; an antithesis on the dynamics of the universe.

scientists suspect that the universe will eventually stop it's expansion to begin its contraction. exactly as the ball vertically thrown to reach the sky, that at a certain height surrenders to gravity & starts its way down.

scientists fear the moment every star & planet & galaxy & blackhole will simultaneously shrink into a single spot in place & time. a sort of big bang in reverse, an outside in.

which is to say: you fled from us, away from me to never look back on what we had. i guess in some shape or form, we mimicked the universe by drifting away from each other;  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  & everything that's out there begins to compress; will the universe then bring us back to how we were?

a massive clash.

cosmos to cosmos, galaxy to galaxy, planet to planet & lips to lips.

honey,           this might be the universe reminding us,            how we                        are destined                                            to collide.

- skin the poet  (2017)

Dear god: I just want to be believed in. Dear god: I had a syrup dream – the sky was grey and sinking, clouds of sugar and milk. Dear god: We don’t have churches anymore, just the blood that we kept in them. Dear god: I named the animals and now they’ve named me back – deathgirl, gentle hand, silver teeth. Dear god: In the end, water is thicker than blood. Water is heavier than anything else. Dear god: Laila killed those cats with her bare hands. Dear god: I have difficulty with faith. Dear god: I have difficulty with apologies. Dear: god. Deer god. Dear, god. Dear god.

Olive Prays, Yasmin Belkhyr (via wildflowerveins)

Photo by Byron Johnson 

changing of the seasons - two door cinema club

To feel anything deranges you. To be seen feeling anything strips you naked.

Anne Carson, Red Doc> (via theclassicsreader)

my mum is coming to paris on tuesday. we haven't seen each other in about a year and a half... i wanna get her flowers for when i pick her up at the airport. which kind of flower is ideal for this situation? which kind of flower shouts thank you for existing, thank you breathing by my side?