We were all spinning...

[existential-celestial]

“[H]oliness is not the denial but the acceptance of being creatures.”

— Rowan Williams, Ceation, Creativity, Creatureliness: the Wisdom of Finite Existence

[meadams]

Weather, Jenny Offill

[meadams]

It don’t smell like him

No more

Don’t smell like him

No more

[meadams]

I threaten to quit them

I swear I’ll do it

Desperation to hurt

Hurt over you dear

My dear

[meadams]

I beg so quietly

You don’t notice me under the table

[meadams]

I can

Smell you a million miles

Away from me you are

A lifetime away but

This distance grew in one moment

Only I prayed for

You only lick my

Tears up like a stray

Dog lap at my

Wounds I have so many hurt me

Heal me taste

Me I am here

To serve your senses

I will give you anything

Beg for it

[hype]

[punk-]

[apocryphics]

[meadams]

Lick me like I am

Unkempt and longing I am

Thinking of the girl who didn’t change her clothes for three days

I hope people say “oh that poor girl”

Pity is milk on midnight cereal

Oh you know the one

[wishbzne-deactivated20210526]

“Those lovers are mostly gone. My hands remain—: like altars.”

— Natalie Diaz, from The Hand Has Twenty-Seven Bones—: These Hands If Not Gods

[portamiunasediaevattene]

Renato Mambor, Capovolto. (1963)

[meadams]

Eat me up

I am your tiny girl

Tiny girl on the dance floor

I eat you up

You dream about me eating you up

[d-iaphane]

[wishbzne-deactivated20210526]

“We don’t forget, but something vacant settles in us.”

— Roland Barthes, from Mourning Diary

[betterlookoutbelow]

Mary Shelley, from a letter to Percy Bysshe Shelley (1814) / Joanna Newsom - “Only Skin” (2006)

[meadams]

At night on the freeway through Indiana

Wind turbines blink

The black night

Miles of red stars

The black night

Miles of red stars