Sometimes I think I shouldn’t let you come back. This has all gone on too long. It is so hard to love someone so inconstant, someone who is so often fading before my eyes. But I know I will always welcome your return. The way you crack open the sky to come home to me. It is all I can do to bathe in your brilliance. Beautiful, after all this time you still control my every move. I become such a monster when I miss you. Darling, it is always so dark when you’re gone.”
— Clementine von Radics, From The Ocean To The Moon
“I exist. It is soft, so soft, so slow. And light: it seems as though it suspends in the air. It moves.”
— Jean-Paul Sartre, from Nausea
Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles (via thorensmallwood)
My brain is in love with your brain,
and my body is just nuts about your body.
My brain thinks your body is the ne plus ultra
of sinewy perfection. My body goes in awe
of your brain, a dim sibling, loping behind.
And my heart? My heart is a bloodhound
with two masters. It tracks you through
the deep woods, first this way, then that.
The body whistles; the mind blows its silver horn.
Soon we will find you, treed and waiting.
The mind will stand poised with its camera;
the body, raise its barreled scope. The heart
will run around and around in circles as they argue
about the future, and birds scatter like buckshot,
piercing the dawn with their little cries.
Jennifer Maier, ”Love Poem,” from Now, Now (University of Pittsburg Press, 2013)
your wholeness cascades into many shapes.
You run like a herd of luminous deer,
and I am dark;
I am forest.
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book of Hours I (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)
Chuck Palahniuk (via exoticwild)