Even the stars burn, darling. Greet darkness like a friend and let the stars stack inside you until your bones bleed into the milky way.
“This is not what the door’s for—slamming
you up against, opening
your legs with my knee. And it isn’t
leaving, the thing I keep doing
with my shoes still on, or in the car
in the driveway in broad
daylight after waving
goodbye to your neighbors
again. But my body’s a bad
dog, all dumb tongue
and hunger, down
on all fours again, tied up
outside again, coming
when called but then always refusing
to stay. I know what I’m trying
to say, but it isn’t
talking, the thing that I do with my mouth
to your ear, even though
we got the orifices right. To leave
I would have to put clothes on,
and they’d have to fit better
than all of this skin. To leave
I would have to know where to begin:
like this, pressed up
against the half-open window? Like
this, with my foot on the gas? If seeing
is believing then why isn’t touching
knowing for sure? I just want my nerves
to do the work for me, I don’t want
to have to decide. There’s blood in my hands
for fight and blood in my legs
for flight and nowhere
a sign. Believe me, I’ll leave if you just
let me touch you again for the last
last time.”

 —Ali Shapiro, “I Keep Trying to Leave You but the Sex Just Gets Better and Better” (via contramonte)

(via mooneyedandglowing)





“But mostly I just stand in the dark field,
in the middle of the world, breathing —”


“Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance.”


“In the lonely hours of the night, I always find myself coming back to you.”

 —Things I Never Got To Tell You, Part 25 (via venula)

(via venula)



“I’ve been told that I love
too hard, too much, too soon
and too often for it to really
be the kind of love that is
everlasting. But in my heart
it is not that way. In my
heart there is a vacant room
that is waiting for someone to
fill the space with their presence,
with their forever, with their
love. So when someone tries
to tell me that I love too much,
too often, I will say that at least
my love is on full. That I will
not give up or give in just because
there is no room inside
of my reserved heart for them.”

 —"I’m sorry, but we’re booked," - Colleen Brown (via mostlyfiction)

(via mostlyfiction)





The babe and I. I’m so in love with him.

The babe and I. I’m so in love with him.





Out of the hospital!

Out of the hospital!