Silly-sips - Vindictive Virgo

Hey, stop scrolling.

Everyone who is reading this: I’m so glad you’re alive. I’m so proud of you. You are loved. I’m here. Don’t give up, we’re almost there.

Pass it on.

the gworls ate 🔥

ksenyasitdikova

Some fanfiction writers are just so incredibly talented

tranquility

i’m actually fucking feral rn

this man can and will always get me going

Chris Evans at the Los Angeles premiere of Lightyear, 6/8/2022

Rihanna out in Beverly Hills (February 7th, 2022)

📸 by Diggzy

the conversation has to be as good as the sex

last chance to evacuate

as you may know, israel has begun its ground operation in rafah. they dropped leaflets last night ordering people to evacuate, and bombing in east rafah has already begun.

The border is about to become unreachable.

Rafah is trapped.

We have literal hours until no-one, all the GoFundMe's you've scrolled past, all the people desperately begging on TikTok, will be able to escape.

Give now. Give whatever you can.

I am fundraising for the Odeh family, which is only 3k away from meeting its goal.

you will not get another chance.

GIVE HERE

There is so much quiet sublimity in the shapes that draw your chest; and so many stranded looks… in the restless sea of your kisses.

I never beheld a bonfire so radiant, of fire and passion, not a look, so subtle and perverse that resembles, - to the zenith of creation !!

There is a field of poppies on your disheveled cheekbones; where they sprout, beautiful stanzas radiating, “drugged poems”.

…And when the southern breeze blows, touching the watchtower of your palace, my senses “become avalanches”, burying with caresses… - your sacred mountain !!

Today, I wouldn’t mind dying… In the waves that carry your karma like a surfer, unafraid to feel the orgasms you treasure, - in your guts !!

- Ousía Poética ©    March 2016

Hay tanta sublimidad callada en las formas que dibujan tu pecho; y tantísimas miradas encalladas… en el inquieto mar de tus besos.

Nunca contemplé una hoguera tan radiante, de fuego y pasión, ni una mirada, tan sutil y perversa que se asemeja, - al cenit de la creación !!

Hay un campo de amapolas en tus pómulos desalambrados; donde brotan, hermosas estrofas irradiando, “poemas narcotizados”.

…Y cuando sopla la brisa del sur, rozando la atalaya de tu palacio, mis sentidos, “se tornan alud”, sepultando de caricias… - tu montaña sagrada !!

Hoy, no me importaría morir… en las olas, que transportan tu karma, como un surfista, sin miedo a sentir los orgasmos que atesoras, - en tus entrañas !!