#tiny beasts

[thejewellerybox]

Moth ring, Tabby Booth x Rare Bear Jewellery, from the Tiny Beasts collection.

Designed by artist Tabby Booth and expertly finished by jeweller Elle George (Rare Bear).

Cast with sustainably-sourced sterling silver, using the lost wax method, £165.

Matching earrings available.

[here4dragons]

I have baby dragons!!!

!!!!!! THEY R BEAUTIFUL

[dosenherz]

in the end, she figured, that must have been the reason people left in flocks like pastel birds flaunting finger-bleached travel brochures. leaving shreds of glossy palm trees to stuff the scarecrow for the scared crow. it's difficult to hit c-minor with a scowl. it's not dead if it's singing though, yellow eyes mocking frozen life on the fields. you're that crow, she thinks. you've doubled your weight in mercury and it's running down your hands while you hold your own body still. you haven't opened your mouth for something other than moss under woods when you bent too far, but the silver slipped in. you cannot tell which want is heavier - yours or some dead star holy. you've always been too afraid of skinny-dipping next to skin-thin veiled loves. yes, you can bear the taste but your mama told you, that silver is too much of a mirror. and people don't want to see their own cracks under pressure. not when the soft seems so ugly next to eggshell parts. not when they write stories about warrior girls dressed up in gold. you don't take that crown. you also refuse to fall down. something tender lurks through your bloodied teeth. i swear, i saw someone staring yesterday. and a smile creeping your way. the crow caws and it sounds like half your laughter. in the end, she thinks, winter shivers away.

dosenherz, tiny beasts vi (post-cancer meditations)

[dosenherz]

we skinny-dip into another conversation too salty for this early of a monkey’s year, but

saturn left his rings around your neck and gravity remembers that you’re not a cloud and the trembling of your cigarette is still surprisingly sadder than how your eyes droop faster in fake smiles. i’ve been softening around the edges lately and now it feels like i’m obliged to slap cheap horoscopes over my sternum. can’t trust anything but the pricetags, selling souls peeled bare on the night-market.

which one then, you ask; paled lips against my spine, unable to draw the line between your skin and mine and i won’t lie.

earth, i say. and too much water in my bones.

and now you’re angry because that’s metal and wood and sleeping on top of powerlines but nothing that leaves warzones without red-wet wounds and you can’t tell me to burn if i’m the one left in ashes and you cannot stop telling me to burn when i feel heavy like this. 

(now there’s a howling pacing in your chest. this is the restless thing you can’t forget when you sleep next to me. i fall dead to the world around ten and you still see the shivers like ripples in the sea. words expand like lungs and you can’t catch them in dreams.)

but how would you torch yourself? you yell and oddly, it is the sun you’re facing and now i’m not sure who’s closer to the sky.

listen. LISTEN. i am mouths full of strange-blue neon light. mama told me, brushing the leaves out of my hair. people make whole cities from heartaches, from forests, from mud. and sometimes they make tiny gods.

- count one, two, you: who’s scared of chinese star-riddled truth. (tiny beasts)

[dappercookiexd]

I just spent six hours watching tiny animals. And by animals I mean second graders.