though this particular wellspring’s run dry, there are still these balmy nights, this sordid sunshine, and all the while the familiarity of skin left ripe by the sweat of turbulence. still there is softness, and still there is music, and still the wind licks our cheeks raw with its reminders. it says: wake up! the sun is rising! for the moment we lay down our plagues, forgive our lapses, take comfort in our rituals. i feel summer coming, bible-black blissful in waves across my skin.
• • 3 notes
found a mix i’d made four years ago that still rings true today—a solid accomplishment. pursuance and exaltation. the sonic pull of vibration. dig this: we may all be living in a singular consciousness, all things merely existing in a plane of vibration. the hum beneath all things. why are our souls so pulled towards the gravity of things—places, people, attachments—when we’re all hearing the same noise?
• • 6 notes
four years ago and then some. how i love you still. (Taken with instagram)
•
a kiss before dawn is the seal of trust between us. nestled in the cocoon of night we risk our weaknesses, soft undersides exposed, wounds left to fester. in the daylight we move like dancers skimming across the water, maneuvering swift around the patterns we’ve surrounded ourselves with. in the sunlight we are beautiful. perhaps it is the weight of it, laying heavy across your shoulders, the fine wisdom of inevitability that runs rampant—or perhaps i was born of a similar fire, carried across seven bodies of water to lay at your feet, careening past the open air into the cavern of your throat. perhaps we’re in the thick of it, drowning blissfully, unaware.
• • 2 notes
“to love another is something like a prayer and can’t be planned, you just fall into its arms and your belief undoes your disbelief.” -anne sexton
• • 9 notes
currently reading, currently getting my heart destroyed.
• • 7 notes
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
an old song i wrote a million years ago:
passeism:
not today
passive excessive w. thisShip
my name hangs from the corner of your mouth. you say: not today
all your visions worry me due south, led astray
if your demons find your hiding place in disarray
you would hold me close till the night went grey, but not today
oh i told you they’d never find us, not today
oh i told you they’d never find us, not today
i say your name and you still say, not today
• • 11 notes