woman, amen

lauren. 20s. usa. i worshipped the myth i made of you, but  i’m off my knees / now.

[andyouareamiracle]

[leah-cultice]

Primrose Archer by Bex Day for Harper’s Bazaar UK May 2021

[soracities]

I don’t understand death, but I’m not afraid of dying. It will be a rest: a cradle at last. I won’t hurry it though; I will live until the last bitter drop.

Clarice Lispector, excerpt from “As Fast As I Can Type” (April 17, 1971), Too Much of Life: The Complete Crônicas  (trans. Margaret Jull Costa & Robert Patterson)

[ruched]

Callot Soeurs Autumn/Winter 1928

[ymutate]

Robert Mapplethorpe, Lilies, 1989

[derangedrhythms]

and the sound of the sea colors everything.

Louise Glück, A Village Life; from 'Marriage'

[papillon-de-mai]

Serge Marshennikov — Resting. detail. 2017

[fungusamongusblog2]

[smokefalls]

Death likes his brides beautiful.

Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi, Kintu

[lacetulle]

Hermione de Paula | Fall/Winter 2023

[fungusamongusblog2]

[smokefalls]

They so close now that the only thing between them is breath and dusk and promise.

Ayanna Lloyd Banwo, When We Were Birds (via smokefalls)

[fungusamongusblog2]

[spectrologie-deactivated2023041]

British Columbia // Judianne Grace

[derangedrhythms]

You might ask why. Here’s why. Poetry.

Carol Ann Duffy, The World’s Wife; from ‘Little Red-Cap’

[themakeupbrush]

Marwan & Khaled Fall/Winter 2018/2019

[abiteofv]