#wtmwoedit

[displayheartcode]

What Sam had told her the time she first kissed him, about pollinating each pumpkin blossom by hand, she knew it was true. He hadn’t made it up. But now it felt like something he’d invented, a fairy story about an enchanted paintbrush that shimmered with pollen like gold dust. It covered her in the feeling that his fingers were brushes, and under them she was growing into something alive.

anna-marie mclemore, when the moon was ours

[homesickstars]

The way he loved her was his, even if she wasn’t.

[caelestisnox]

top ten books i read in 2016

When The Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore

“...both he and she were creek beds, quiet when they were full and quiet when they were dry. But when they were half-full, wearing a coat of shallow water, the current bumped over the rocks and valleys in the creek beds, wearing down the earth. Giving someone else a little of who they were hurt more than giving up none or all of it.”

[libraryleopard]

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore

She’d wanted this since the day he turned her skin into a brown sky dotted with pale constellations. But now she was too broken and brittle to take it. She wasn’t a soft place he could fall. She was all edges, all fierce rivers and panels of stained glass. Only joints of rose brass held her together.

I take no credit for the photos

[displayheartcode]

“...both he and she were creek beds, quiet when they were full and quiet when they were dry. But when they were half-full, wearing a coat of shallow water, the current bumped over the rocks and valleys in the creek beds, wearing down the earth. Giving someone else a little of who they were hurt more than giving up none or all of it.” 

when the moon was ours by anna-marie mclemore

[caelestisnox]

LGBT+ books: When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore

“He could not shrug away the sense that his shirt, his binder, his jeans, were all turning to pieces. They were falling away from him, leaving him naked to the night and all these trees. But it was his body. It was his to name. And he was under this roof of gold and darkness with a girl who would learn to call him whatever he named himself.”