[planeswalking]

let’s roam

[killxbunnyyy]

Aaaaaaaaand You're banished from my realm

[houseofcatwic]

Russian collage artist Philipp Igumnov

[sabekr]

[zegalba]

Paul Cooper: 'Living Sculpture' (2001)

[flower--stream]

𓇢𓆸

Make a wish!

[lionofchaeronea]

Night and Her Daughter Sleep, Mary L. Macomber, 1902

[feral-ballad]

Rosario Castellanos, tr. by Magda Bogin, from The Selected Poems of Rosario Castellanos; "The splendor of being"

[Text ID: "A word is the taste / our tongue has of eternity; / that's why I speak."]

[exhaled-spirals]

— Rainer Maria Rilke, Selected Poems

[allhail50]

georgia.jelly on insta

[ketzalcoatl]

ketzal_coatl

[derangedrhythms]

[…] we continually fascinate each other.

Sylvia Plath, The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume II: 1956–1963 ⁠—  Aurelia Schober Plath, 29th November 1956

[youngestdaughtersyndrome-deacti]

my heart is a ripe fruit rotting in my chest

[mentalhealth]

how much of ur online presence is performative and how much is it u being u

[soil-boy]

baby every me is me, we are the mask and the wearer

[fordarkmornings]

Claude Monet (French, 1840-1926) 

Two Women on a Boat

[flowerytale]

Ada Limón, from “Sometimes I Think My Body Leaves a Shape in the Air”, The Carrying: Poems

[a-quiet-green-agreement]

We made love all morning and some of the afternoon. The hours passed. Outside the leaves on the trees constricted slightly; they were the deep done green of the beginning of the autumn. It was a Sunday in September. There would only be four. The clouds were high and the swallows would be here for another month or so before they left for the south before they returned again next summer.

– Ali Smith, from “Believe Me,” The Whole Story and Other Stories (Anchor Books, 2004)

[a-quiet-green-agreement]

…there was an odd strain in him. Too imaginative, perhaps; given to fits of abstraction…

– John Crowley, Great Work of Time