May 2012
325 posts
“It was a breath of wind, that, twisting your great tresses,
Brought strange...”
– Ophelia, by Arthur Rimbaud (via mirroir)
“You’re beautiful, but you’re empty. No one could die for you.”
– Antoine de Saint Exupéry, The Little Prince (via larmoyante)
After the Fall: Petroglyph
poemsfallfrommycursedlips:
On stone hearts time frozen, unchanging images arcane dancing, delving power imbued with hands ,tools, hues meanings lost feelings remain
“I hadn’t understood how days could be both long and short at the same time: long...”
– Albert Camus, The Stranger (via seabois)
Smoulder
loqui:
I can hear you simmering A pot above the stove Bubbling tremors Writhing in flame A firm hand over your clothing
Growling tiger tall grass lows Quaking rumbles in your throat Your tolerance crumbling Fumble with fated reality Weaken at the knees With a plea to boil over Tumbling clumsy
Bared teeth open to plains Shred against the flesh Terror written in heated waves
...
14 tags
Lucks
Gotham was a liar
and streets, messy sinks
of uncouth roses
and spilled dreams of red and dust.
But they shall listen
and abhor their names
those written in marble
under the perennial sight of
our luscious, cheapened
shame.
