For The Waters Spared You,

IC / OOC Blog for K'Zihva Nimh. A loud, outgoing young woman who dreams of oceans flowing red.

[campcowboy]

have not stopped thinking about this poem by hanif adburraqib ever since i read it

[swampchild]

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1JWk09Tx2s-fg9zUjfR6dfCGP1ifwQwm1vweE6deI-50/edit

La Noscean Redwoods

It was raining in the Shroud. A storm of diluvial proportions, the relentless wailing winds tore through the boughs with enough force to ben

[writhe]

the wind coming off the water has traveled so far to greet you

[aegao]

[emil]

don’t look at me yet dude i’m still rendering

[thecollectibles]

Inktober 2020 by Gren Art

[pollicinor]

I piatti di Glen Taylor

[cithaerons]

dante (musa trans.) / joan naviyuk kane /  dante (ciardi trans.)  /  david foster wallace / tauba auerbach / w.s. merwin

[kayflapper]

Paul Briancon, art Nouveau snake ring.

[wickedmlm]

Monsters are not gentle. That is what you have been told, and to a certain degree, it holds true. Rough claws, rough voice, a rough-around-the-edges personality. But that doesn’t mean monsters cannot be safe, cannot be kind. Gentleness and kindness are not one and the same. Monsters can be viciously kind, monsters can be violently safe. Gentleness is not a requirement for love.

[antelopes-and-omens]

“She eats the hearts first, before they go bad–as all hearts will.”

— Jessica D. Thompson, from Circe’s Lament; “Diana, Slade, Kentucky c. 1975,”  (via dearestdeads)

[swampchild]

O Knight of Love

Most truly honored, and truly dear

If there is worth in me or ought it appear

I cannot profess it was a gift from gods above

But from your patient teachings, O Knight of Love.

My debts amount to an impossible sum,

My greatest compassions sparse a crumb.

No kindness to this world would every repay

The love you share on a single day.

But in partial payment take this mite,

That in this poem I pledge to set a callous Star right.

Your care is a debt that I won’t let you forgive,

But as I can, I will pay it while I live.

Was was the mother, so too be shall I

A brave knight of love, my debts paid when I die.

[swampchild]

And Of The River I Need Not Fear

You lift my body to the shore.

Before I drown or choke or slip too far

beneath. did you even think?—just jumped, just

as I did not seconds even before,

into the hungry river. my hands clutch corded arms, between your warmth

and your bobbing frame pulling me from the riverbed, up and out.

I am not drowning, but you are

still standing watchful by the shore

and I do not fear as I wade deeper,

as you keep patient vigil on the sands.

[silvaris]

Birch Woods by Charles Liu

[mashamorevna]

“So. What are you seeking? The image you’ve each created of the other? The people you think you love don’t exist. Not really. And that’s a very lonely place to be.”

— Jonathan Sims, “The Last [MAG159]”, for The Magnus Archives (via antigonick)

[lifeinpoetry]

“I want to tell me I miss me. I want to tell me, / I’m never coming back.”

— Kayleb Rae Candrilli, from “Funeral for a Girl Who Grew Up in the Woods (or, At the Root),” All the Gay Saints

[poems-and-word]