The petals wear like rust
The tired days of longing
Cricket heat and hot
This ever unfolding and closing.
Yet I loved you.
I love you!
And now it is said
And the Earth still spins
And some purpose has made you
Of her intention
I reach you with a cowered call
The understory of our intent
There is opportunity in your concern
Covered in work and petty talk.
Love lingers unaware.
I know the truth.
And so do you.
"The moon drops one or two feathers into the field.
The dark wheat listens.
There they are, the moon’s young, trying
Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow
Of her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is gone
Wholly, into the air.
I stand alone by an elder tree, I do not dare breathe
The wheat leans back toward its own darkness,
And I lean toward mine."
“She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood.
She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell. All your tomorrows start here.”"
Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders (via kushandwizdom)
“When I was young, I got a taste of being a tool for someone else’s provocation, and I liked it.” -Charlotte Gainsbourg
Photograph by Tim Walker; styled by Jacob K; W magazine October 2014.
It’s just too beautiful. Don’t say a word.
—A boulevard without traffic or trade,
Every drama muted, every comedy stilled,
An infinite collection of scenes.
I know you, and stare at you in silence.