A clean, well-lighted place.

Time to move to Ketchum.

[better-left-unsung]

There it is

That smile I missed

Those lips I kissed

My simple twist of fate

The one I looked for constantly

The one I met too late

It’s nice to see “no vacancy”

Where I was once a guest

I hope you’re finally happy

I wish you all the best

[weirdlandtv]

Entrance to the 1912 Luna Park in St. Kilda, Melbourne.

[petrasvonkant]

Touch of Evil (1958) dir. Orson Welles

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Gaslight (George Cukor, 1944)

[better-left-unsung]

A year ago today I was sporting a dirty beard

and a death wish (you could probably say the

same about the me you met a month or so ago)

but now I’m in your passenger seat, cradling a

case of Mexican beer, and a red Cadillac

is getting bigger in the broken rear view

mirror. He flashes his ‘59 tailfins before he

disappears down Hawthorne. All of this, just

what I needed. Pretty little variables.

[palmandlaser]

Cadillac Grille, Jackson, Wyoming

From Restaurant Design (1987)

[scenephile]

I’m waiting for someone.

[nemfrog]

Book title. The man who couldn’t sleep. 1919.

[greggaraki]

In Heaven, everything is fine. In Heaven, everything is fine. You’ve got your good things. And I’ve got mine.

Eraserhead | 1977 | dir. David Lynch

[unchildhood]

AZRA TABASSUM

(also known as @5000letters)

from My Heart is Full of Open Windows;

original photos and edit

[metaphorformetaphor]

“There’s a sense that I’ve lost—not everything, not everything, but far too much. A part of my life forever.”

— Raymond Carver, from “Hominy and Rain,” All of Us: The Collected Poems (Vintage, 2000)

[8-bitstories-deactivated2020062]

[ashestoashes-funktofunky]

Visit Original Link

For you dear, I was born For you I was raised up For you I’ve lived and for you I will die For you I am dying now You were my mad little lover In a world where everybody fucks everybody else over You who are so far from me

[better-left-unsung]

So long, my little so long ago.

I still can't believe

That once upon a time

We belonged to one another.

I still can't believe

As many lies as I have told

I still can't say I'm doing better.

[photosbygy-deactivated20200605]

[nastylittleman]

Visit Original Link

[heteroglossia]

Memory is a poet, not a historian.