and your head is bent back and your back is arched my hand is under there holding you up
ms. mallory and her garçon chéri

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and your head is bent back and your back is arched my hand is under there holding you up
ms. mallory and her garçon chéri
Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy
here's to one undiscoverable guess of whose mad skill each world of blood is made (whose fatal songs are moving in the moon)
here's to opening and upward; e.e. cummings
You are the blood flowing through my fingers All through the soil and up in those trees
(dedicated to arthurpenrose and lovely-mallory 's wolf and i verse)
your lips to my lips we cease to exist
I figured you as nude between Monotonous earth and dark blue sky. It made you seem so small and lean And nameless
(The Apostrophe of Vincentine, Wallace Stevens)
* Inspired by the rp tumblrs lovely-mallory and arthurpenrose