[wroteyouathing]

𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦

[theoptia]

Louise Glück, from The Wild Iris; “The Wild Iris”

[rrondo]

[nevver]

Where’s your head at? Greg Dunn

[mournfulroses]

Jane Hirshfield, from a poem titled "Lake And Maple," featured in The Asking: New and Selected Poems

[paper-wounds]

[vexheart]

[paper-wounds]

via

[griefasagarden]

And I know I will exit / my banner as a bird that does not alight on trees in the garden. / I will exit all of my skin, and my language.

mahmoud darwish, i have behind the sky a sky, trans. fady joudah

[wildweirwood]

— Faith Alexandria, Mine to keep, mine to love

[miss-mi-blog]

[weltenwellen]

Buttercream Joy Sullivan

[shisasan]

We sit and talk, quietly, with long lapses of silence, and I am aware of the stream that has no language, coursing, beneath the quiet heaven of your eyes, which has no speech.

William Carlos Williams, Paterson (1946)

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

Do you happen to know that love may not exist in the way people imagine?

— Vincent Van Gogh, in a letter to Wilhelmina, his sister (Arles, 30 April 1889)

[pale-cute]

[havingapoemwithyou]

Poem by Ron Padgett

[havingapoemwithyou]

In a Dream by Anna Akhmatova