the moon and stars

my name is chris but you can call me tonight...

[psynergy]

I could look at you and tell you all I see in you everything you are, every way you stop the room. But let me say this simply: You are the loveliest, most authentic soul I have ever come across in this life. I will never take for granted the way it feels to bathe in your beams of light. You're adored. You're viewed in pure awe, everything in life one could hope to love. You do not belong to me, you belong to yourself and the world. But of all the lives I've been a part of, my favorite one is yours.

m.j. Savitzky

[dead-silent-211]

[90377]

iide mountains,Japan 飯豊山 by skm_390

[weltenwellen]

Simone Weil, tr. by Richard Rees, First and Last Notebooks

[weltenwellen]

Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to GH

[weltenwellen]

Fernando Pessoa, A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe: Selected Poems

[weltenwellen]

Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

[weltenwellen]

Czeslaw Milosz, tr. by Robert Haas, from “Late Ripeness”, Second Space: New Poems

[redlipstickresurrected]

Stephen Hannock (American, b. 1951,  Albany, NY, USA) - Incendiary Nocturne with Stormy Sea, 2016, Paintings: Oil on Canvas

[vhspositive]

[woundgallery]

—Simone Weil, from La Pesanteur et la Grace (trans. Emma Craufurd, Routledge and Kegan Paul), 1952.

[flowerytale]

Charles Dickens ― Great Expectations

[cosmic-rebirth]

[weltenwellen]

Jenny Slate, Little Weirds

[driftlight]

“This love: it’s mine to give, and yours to keep. its heart may beat like a bird’s but it still has claws, So that, I pray, it may grasp through dark. That it may reach to where You told me you are burning up Past skin into ash somewhere deep; That hands can’t touch, That eyes can’t see. My hands may not reach, But love holds: It prays, Love hopes.”

—

[shytrash]

[elegyforadream]