illustrations by émile-antoine bayard for jules verne’s around the moon (1870) via publicdomainrev
Sweet Seals For You, Always

oozey mess
Not today Justin
Keni

#extradirty
The Stonewall Inn

Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
𓃗
$LAYYYTER
Noah Kahan

No title available

PR's Tumblrdome
cherry valley forever

shark vs the universe
almost home
noise dept.

Kiana Khansmith

No title available

roma★
Cosmic Funnies

seen from United States
seen from Thailand

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
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seen from Australia
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seen from Bangladesh

seen from Türkiye
@lhzthepoet
illustrations by émile-antoine bayard for jules verne’s around the moon (1870) via publicdomainrev
When we un-packed it, the Paris curator was embarrassed to discover lipstick marks on its cheek: someone in the Louvre had played at being Pygmalion—or Hadrian—and kissed it. And who could blame them? Up on a pedestal, center stage, the effect of its beauty was jaw-dropping.
I am the wounded thing in the basement. I made war with my sorrow when what I wanted was to be seen.
If I'm the dead thing in the dark, do I get to see the sunlight? // L.H.Z
When my wounds are no longer wounds and my heart is less tender,
I hope I remember happiness.
This Anatomy of Melancholy | L.H.Z |
Mary Oliver, from “The Gardener” in A Thousand Mornings
Los Angeles Public Library Unveils the World’s Largest Pop-Up Book
If I could give you the blood in my body or the breath in my lungs I would, but I only have my heart .
- You deserve better than my fractured love || L.H.Z
“The blood, the flowers, the fire,”
— Arthur Rimbaud, from Selected Poems; “Motion,”
Fumi Kaneko in Giselle (Royal Ballet 2026)
photo by Isabella Turolla
𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔪
Mary Oliver, from “Wild Geese” in Dream Work (originally published in 1986)
Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “Night is my Sister, and How Deep in Love” in The Collected Poems
Natasha Trethewey, from Thrall: Poems; "Mythology"
I am the wounded thing in the basement. I made war with my sorrow when what I wanted was to be seen.
If I'm the dead thing in the dark, do I get to see the sunlight? // L.H.Z