"i wish the sky would rain down roses, as they rain from off the shaken bush. why will it not?"
“He was supposed to
feel something, but his poor heart
felt nothing, nothing.”
feel something, but his poor heart
felt nothing, nothing.”
a haiku about a boy, unrequited
you’ve come this way before
i’ve traced your veins, only with my eyes
and i’ve sung delicately, waywardly
would you plant carousel kisses on me?
you carry the ocean in your eyes
and the north wind laces your bones
i like your songful, trembling hands
and chai tea from that street cafe
i collect dreams in glass jars
and tremulous feelings
red and khaki
dimples and regrets
share with me honey breaths
and the touch of soft hands
“Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.”
The Princess Bride, William Goldman (via larmoyante)
poignancies on May 12
- shapely silhouettes
- secrets of the morning moon
- bruises on pale skin
- fragile gazes by the greens
- yearnings for tenderness
lately
- i’ve been wish-making quite ardently, because nothing good ever happens to me (how sad).
- i’ve been falling quite carelessly, for eyes that sparkle and chests that pound (how lovely).
- i hope May plants bluebells in all of its days; i wish to bloom, too.
