+ 399 Notes

Bring me your pain, love. Spread
it out like fine rugs, silk sashes,
warm eggs, cinnamon
and cloves in burlap sacks. Show me

the detail, the intricate embroidery
on the collar, tiny shell buttons,
the hem stitched the way you were taught,
pricking just a thread, almost invisible.

Unclasp it like jewels, the gold
still hot from your body. Empty
your basket of figs. Spill your wine.

That hard nugget of pain, I would suck it,
cradling it on my tongue like the slick
seed of a pomegranate. I would lift it

tenderly, as a great animal might
carry a small one in the private
cave of the mouth.

Ellen Bass, “Basket of Figs” 
Sep 30 @ 4:00 PM
+ 3725 Notes
Sep 30 @ 10:46 AM
+ 1605 Notes

notebookings:

Frances Ha

Sep 30 @ 10:12 AM
+ 36 Notes

feelin’ tired, but good, but tired, but good

Sep 29 @ 11:21 AM
+ 70568 Notes

Women of the IRA, Alex Bowle, Northern Ireland, 1977.

Sep 27 @ 6:54 PM
+ 3225 Notes
I think I fell in love with her, a little bit. Isn’t that dumb? But it was like I knew her. Like she was my oldest, dearest friend. The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and they’ll still love you, because they know you. I wanted to go with her. I wanted her to notice me. And then she stopped walking. Under the moon, she stopped. And looked at us. She looked at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don’t know. She probably didn’t even know I was there. But I’ll always love her. All my life.
Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 8: Worlds’ End (via wordsnquotes)
Sep 27 @ 1:51 PM
+ 117 Notes

You’ll drop your pen
and its insides will rattle a lot like ours do
and you’ll lean down to pick it up
and you’ll draw a string onto my leg on the way up,
straight as flatline.

String like noose, like tie it around my ankle
tight to remember, string like I’m here
for the long haul. String like let me underline you
right here, string like strikethrough to-do list,
here in this lecture hall with the echo
and the marginal notes about
civilization.

That night, I’ll dream of biting you bloody.
I’ll dream of kissing you long, kissing you wide.
I’ll dream of climbing into your stomach
and pushing into your throat and
cutting cracks into all the walls
and introducing myself.

I haven’t washed it off.
I scrub around it in the shower.
My bruises overlap onto it,
bites of achey clouds still hanging on 6 o’clock.
Tomorrow, I’ll wear a dress too thin for the day,
and ask you about your classes and
when she walks by you and while you
turn around to look at her, again and again,

I’ll draw a line at the nape of your neck.
String like noose, string like tie us together
at the spines to remember each other by,
string like baby, you’re here for the long haul,
baby, you’re here.

How About Lunch? | Ramna Safeer (via inkywings)
Sep 27 @ 3:09 AM
repost!  
+ 87418 Notes
You can tell so much about a person by the way they leave you
Redvers Bailey
Sep 27 @ 2:30 AM
+ 42 Notes

The Battle Family

+ 15 Notes

*crawls into your lap* just a friendly reminder *kisses your forehead* that my chapbook is on sale *lies at your feet* at this link *loves you* and if you buy it, I hope you love it *dad dances* and I hope you have the best day today *scuttles off*

Sep 26 @ 10:43 AM
:)))  
LLMNS