Inaureoled

leina'ala - new england stomping ground - probably napping or falling in love

[wildoriganum]

First grader parents letting their kids to school.

Credit: Rokas Aleliunas

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[rosemvry]

via pinterest

[buttonpoetry]

I hope there is something beautiful on the horizon that’s just as impatient as I am. Something so eager, it wants to meet me halfway.

Rudy Francisco, “Horizon” (via buttonpoetry)

[equatorjournal]

daren thomas magee

[armswide]

april 8, 2019 - a sonnet for you

it is 5:55 a.m. when we step out into the 6 a.m. streetlight its haze and electric astronomy alight on your face, despite the cold’s bite; this is lazy springtime rain on your skin, it plays on haunted eyes, awake and wide and hangs its legs off your fantastic grin -  your sun voice calls to me, halts me mid-stride; muted birdsongs in the blue morning lull us into the daytime, your neighbors wake while we turn in and the light is mindful and welcoming of this lack of heartache we watered to blossom - i see your face and leave the front door unlocked just in case

[buttonpoetry]

Raindrops think they’re flying until they hit the ground.

Omoizele Okoawo, “Raindrops”

[emilianobrunori]

[fafra]

Irving Penn: Poppy, showgirl. London, 1968

[satellite-delight]

51.371554, -1.779949

56.679857,12.813339

51.60781,-2.386094

41.304533, -81.901683

50.835601, 4.424613

37.621621, -122.407994

[thewoodbetween]

Northern River by Tom Thomson

[nemfrog]

Endodontoid land snails from Pacific Islands. 1982. 

[armswide]

mid-winter II

these cold and candied winter days have left sour disappointment on my tongue, this soul umami wasted on moonlit kisses your

velvet hands are turned threadbare in a breath, i am more than my skin and i am more than my softness - do not blister me with your hot breath and touch - i may be more than my skin but my body is still teaching itself to heal over itself

i trip over the resting ache, this  heaviness that has settled in me like a deep sea current, at rest near the trenches and asleep in the dark suntime, relentless eclipse

and i wonder when it changed at all, i turn into my sheets as you turn into me your entitled touch is screaming - how does a person quell this unfamiliar rage? how do i deaden the loneliness of this empty lake?

i feel i’ve forgotten the careful keystone in me, lost the suppleness of my dewy sunrise love -  these cold and calloused winter days will just draw it out of me: cold wind through the summer screen, tired love through the night

[terefah]

sunset through my curtains 35mm

[blueberrymodern]

vintage alfaraz pottery +

[thewoodbetween]

[thestylishgypsy-deactivated2018]

Crystal Liu - The Lake, “In The Blue”

[exercicedestyle]

[lavendervalar]

D225/365 // March 12 credit🌙 (pls don’t delete)

I’ll be waiting~

[clawmarks]

Mermaid illustration from The Craftsman - 1906-1907 - via Internet Archive