(via kundaliniyogini)
(via kundaliniyogini)
humidity flaking me out
so much leg skin
a lot to get used to
i got it
no fear crumpot is here
Yes. YES. i would be wrinkled and gray already without it.
(Source: nourishmydirt)
loverstabbedaswordthroughmyheart:
i-was-so-alone-and-iou-so-much:
How do you politely tell someone that you want them naked on top of you
I’m pretty much positive that’s why poetry was even invented in the first place.
for the constellations of your skin to brush against
the earth of mine
i would swim the seas a thousand times
(please let’s fuck now)That was beautiful
poets
(Source: surf4ces, via frustrationincorporated)
WHAT’S POETRY
SHOULD I BE WRITING IT?
SHOULD I BE SINGING IT?
WELL I’M NOT RIGHT NOW SO I GUESS I’M MUNDANE AS DIRTY WHITE SOCKS lost in the laundry mat down the street.
i am stocking up on beauty in my hot humid dark cave with the candles glowing only light in the deep abyss of my own sweat,
music playing from the breaking computer, tinker tattle the strum hum jostle of voices like god light.
i think the album is over i think i might cry.
and, stuck up there in the mountains chanting monk walls and sky larks, do you stop to see me in your toe nails? or do you never bother to glance at your own feet?
i don’t mean to drag you into my existence when you’re living yours somewhere far away - but what can i say i am a black hole for love i suck all mass into my swirling endless body and down it goes up it goes there’s no direction in a blackhole
there’s just the other side somewhere,
the tip of the tongue on jupiter
the side of a stick of butter in the middle of montana ranch
i watch happiness unfolding like chinese fortune cookies and i blows the seeds into your cheeks
If I write enough letters and stick them in enough bottles, one morning you will strip naked and dive into one of them wading in your water shadow.
God I want you,
In some chaste, Victorian way.
A glimpse of your ankle
just kills me.
(Source: clementinevonradics, via oxblood)