May 2012
thevirtualhermit:
Dear Heart, remember how he smiled His eyes fixed on yours This quiet trembling you feel now In the darkness and solitude Of the drive away does not compare To the tremble in his fingers as He counted your goosebumps Remember too how your lips curved and Your hands did not shake as they Caught and tangled, explored and claimed No, fragile heart don’t let those memories Fade...
dandelions and little things
incandescenc-e:
-a vintage typewriter, and -books, lots and lots and lots of books -a cursive tattoo that spells, live beautifully -along my ribs, or another, like ” “ -as a simple reminder -for all the things I don’t know how to say. -a polaroid or vintage camera -or bundles of new notebooks, because -there are still so many words left for me to write -and mugs to fill with jasmine...
52hearts:
chandeliersea:
I like the way we laugh, lights on sleep-eyed. I like the way this is so comfortable. Comfortable like my oldest pair of sweatpants, like that couch we swore was magic, like sleeping in your own bed after being away. Like wet hair, no make-up, brushing my teeth in front of you comfortable. It’s the way moments that should be awkward are just funny instead, the way...
“I am a product of long corridors, empty sunlit rooms, upstairs indoor silences,...”
– C. S. Lewis (via thatkindofwoman)
