▼Cecil Palmer (via aesthesos)
"I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again."▼Charles Bukowski (via avvfvl)
▼Friedrich Nietzsche, from Selected Letters (via c-ovet)
My heart born naked
was swaddled in lullabies.
Later alone it wore
poems for clothes.
Like a shirt
I carried on my back
the poetry I had read.
So I lived for half a century
until wordlessly we met.
From my shirt on the back of the chair"
I learn tonight
how many years
of learning by heart
I waited for you.▼John Berger (via observando)
"I could feel the tears beginning to collect in my throat again, but I pushed them apart, away from each other. Tears are only a threat in groups."▼The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, Aimee Bender (via check-your-pockets-chimney-child)
"The human mind is so limited it can only build an arbitrary heaven — and usually the physical comforts they endow it with are naively the kind that can be perceived as we humans perceive — nothing more. No: perhaps I will awake to find myself burning in hell. I think not. I think I will be snuffed out. Black is sleep; black is a fainting spell; and black is death, with no light, no waking."▼Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via quotes-shape-us)
"But this dark is deep:
now I warm you with my blood, listen
to this flesh.
It is far truer than poems."▼Marina Tsvetaeva, from “Poem of the End” (translated by Elaine Feinstein)