Category: bookworm

Her kisses reminded me of lemon slices drizzle…

Her kisses reminded me of lemon slices drizzled with sticky honey. Bitter, sweet and strangely irresistible.

A picture is a poem without words.

A picture is a poem without words.

There is no sun without shadows, and it is ess…

There is no sun without shadows, and it is essential to know the night.

I feel a rush of gratitude so strong, it feels…

I feel a rush of gratitude so strong, it feels almost like love.

There’s nothing so painful, so corrosive, as s…

There’s nothing so painful, so corrosive, as suspicion.

If you become involved with me, you will be th…

If you become involved with me, you will be throwing yourself into the abyss.

You may shoot me with your words, You may cut …

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

What if one happens to be possessed of a heart…

What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted—? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all that blandly held common virtues and instead straight toward a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster? If your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to run away? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Or is it better to throw yourself headfirst and laughing into the holy rage calling your name?

And the night smells like snow. Walking home f…

And the night smells like snow.
Walking home for a moment
you almost believe you could start again.
And an intense love rushes to your heart,
and hope. It’s unendurable, unendurable.

There are years that ask questions and years t…

There are years that ask questions and years that answer.