in a dream i don't tell anyone, you put your head in my lap.

in a dream i don't tell anyone, you put your head in my lap.

[zegalba]

“this doesn’t compare to the feel of your skin”

[dangerousdykes]

“I’d gotten extremely sick — emergency-room sick — and although we had only been dating a few weeks, she came to sit with me and take me home. The ER drugs put me in a dizzy haze, but all I wanted to do was continue reading the incredible book I’d started that morning. I groggily murmured my wish as I lay in bed. She paused. Quietly, she scooped me up into the crook of her arm, picked up the novel next to me, and started reading. For hours, we lay there: her, stepping out of her comfort zone, and me, listening to the soothing sound of her voice. No one had ever done that for me before. That’s when I knew — I’d found who I was looking for.”

— 30 Lesbians Reveal the Exact Moment They Fell in Love (via thexfiles)

[owenology]

[seaanimalonland]

Did You See The Sky | Rachel Jamison Webster

Did you see the sky through me tonight, carbon blues and clouds like ropes of wool behind a fringe of branches, great combs of black stilling in their sap, stiffening with winter. I like to imagine love can pull your essence like red thread through the cold needle of my life now without you. I was just driving home from the grocery store and looking up over the roofs, I remembered once when I was overthrowing my thoughts for doubts you said, I know how to love you because I hitchhiked, and it was never the same sky twice. Now, I hear you say, this music is like wind moving through itself to wind, intricate as the chimes of light splintering into everything while glowing more whole. It is nothing like those dusty chords on your radio, each an ego of forced air, heavy with the smells of onions, mushrooms, sage and rain. Drink it in, you say, those corded clouds and throaty vocals. You will miss all this when you become the changing.

via peelsofpoetry

[nostalgic-suggestions]

i miss you and i always have so much to tell you if you'd only come back

[nostalgic-suggestions]

i am never not thinking of you

[fromhersoul]

[lamignonette]

[tootickie]

source

[lunamonchtuna]

stop guarding your heart so fiercely that you struggle to understand someone who leaves their own open for you

[anintimacy]

“How light the raindrop’s contents are. How gently the world touches me.”

— Wislawa Szymborska, from View with a Grain of Sand: Selected Poems

[lamignonette]

[mournfulroses]

Virginia Evans, from her book titled "The Correspondent," originally published in May 2025

[opossum-handz]

[mournfulroses]

Marina Tsvetaeva, from a letter to Boris Pasternak featured in Letters, Summer 1926

[zegalba]

Yohji Yamamoto: My Dear Bomb (2010)

[ruhaniya]

“in persian culture when someone calls you beautiful, a common reply is: ‘It is your eyes that are beautiful.’ It means that you must carry beauty within yourself to be able to recognize it in others, everything is a mirror.”