the swamps are pink with june

-&- like the stars, you, my dear, deserve to have your story told. -&- sideblog of merlinn.

[soracities]

Jimmy Santiago Baca, from “I Am Offering This Poem”

[podencos]

Toni Morrison

[theoptia]

Marguerite Duras, from The Lover

Text ID: And I'll always have regrets for everything I do, everything I've gained, everything I've lost, good and bad,

[metamorphesque]

—On Love, Marina Tsvetaeva

[text ID: I just want a humble, murderously simple thing: that a person be glad when I walk into the room.]

[firstfullmoon]

Franz Wright, from “April Orchard,” in Walking to Martha’s Vineyard

[text ID: How in deep sleep sometimes we get well. / So you can believe me, in the far deeper / sleep (these new apple leaves, maybe) we are all going / to be perfectly all right.]

[kxowledge]

Sophocles, Philoctetes

[weltenwellen]

Erika L. Sánchez, from "Departure"

[elf-indulgent]

“What then kills love? Only this: Neglect. Not to see you when you stand before me. Not to think of you in the little things. Not to make the road wide for you, the table spread for you. To choose you out of habit not desire, to pass the flower seller without a thought. To leave the dishes unwashed, the bed unmade, to ignore you in the mornings, make use of you at night. To crave another while pecking your cheek. To say your name without hearing it, to assume it is mine to call.”

— Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body (via merulae)

[stlowens]

Louise Glück, from “March.”

[elysean]

“You still crave lemonade, but the taste doesn’t satisfy you as much as it used to. You still crave summer, but sometimes you mean summer, five years ago.”

— Alida Nugent (via icarusgf)

[feral-ballad]

Gabriela Mistral, tr. by Randall Couch, From Madwomen: The Locas Mujeres Poems of Gabriela Mistral, a Bilingual Edition; “Cassandra”

[elysean]

“But you’re just so tired of having to keep up the act. Maybe it would be okay to just be yourself for a while. Let out the breath you’ve been holding for years.”

— Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (via antigonick)

[firstfullmoon]

“I thought I understood your longing—it looked so much like mine.”

— Rebecca Lindenberg, excerpt of “Love, An Index”, from Love, An Index (via antigonick)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Edgar Allan Poe, from a letter to Helen Whitman featured in “The last letters of Edgar Allan Poe to Sarah Helen Whitman,”

[weltenwellen]

Edna St. Vincent Millay, Collected Poems

[primulaceas]

Mary Oliver, "Evidence." Devotions

[johnwartson]

“Tell me, what names have been whispered at your altar? What language would you like me to use when I whisper yours?”

— Kerry Banazek, from section iv of “As an Experiment,” Seneca Review (vol. 40, no. 2, Fall 2010)  (via antigonick)