December 2011
25 posts
1 tag
2 tags
“Because there is still a flicker of heat, no larger
than a storm-cellar candle...”
– from “Here Comes the…” by Melissa May (via gotflavorlikeicecream)
“She stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray, then settles herself against him,...”
– Margaret Atwood, from “The Blind Assassin” (via aubade)
1 tag
i.
The first day you wake up alone The empty space beside you will feel like a phantom limb Drape your arm over this vacant lot It is prime real estate ii. On a Thursday evening, six months later You will forget how to cook for one Wrap the leftovers in tinfoil Everything will taste better tomorrow iii.
When the season of your love repeats itself You will find him in your bed again And...
1 tag
“I drank to drown my sorrows,
but the damned things learned how to swim”
– Frida.
1 tag
“I wanted to write “stay”
on your sides, surround
your bed with oceans
of...”
– J. Bradley (via grammatolatry)
Day 339. (Somewhat Seasonal)
poetcetera:
(A series of haiku.) I. I built my life on already broken dreams. He huddled within them. II. “I love you,” I said, skipping to the good parts. I just wanted the end. III. Life became a mass of messy meanings. It made me more mistaken. IV. “I love you, too,” he said, as if that made it less confusing somehow.
