srj

poet / www.sophieraejordan.com

[zorya]

Son of the White Mare / Fehérlófia (1981) dir. Marcell Jankovics

[musenemesis]

ph Inessa Dolinskaia

From Wunderland Series

[philomena-famulok]

©Philomena Famulok

Evening mood

[kreflections]

We are all made of stars….

[dyke-delphinium]

Sketches by Gustav Gaudernack, 1910

[thunderstruck9]

Luis Caballero (Colombian, 1943-1995), Untitled, 1987. Charcoal and sanguine on canvasboard, 148.6 x 113.9 cm.

[photos-of-space]

Total solar eclipse in Norway

[blushiscool]

Grape Earrings at Yuhan Wang’s MA Central Saint Martins graduate collection

[thatislandwillnotbeperfect]

Happy Pam

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 10, vol. 10, 11 mars 1888, Paris. 3. Papillons en tapisserie. Brun moyen, foncé, très foncé. Jaune très clair, clair, moyen, foncé, très foncé. Rouge moyen, foncé, très foncé. Bleu clair, moyen, foncé. Beige très clair, clair, foncé. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

[edwardian-girl-next-door]

~ Gustave Jean Jacquet, Wistful Thoughts (c.1890) (detail)

via wikimedia commons

[caintooth]

The Kissing Knife by Chloé Arrouy

steel sculptural object

[sioltach]

CATVISU WRAP SKIRT

[nabais]

[angelicdewdrop]

[apoemaday]

The End of Girlhood

by Traci Brimhall

What else can I say? The book opened like a future or a grave. I chose a wilder way through the woods, stalked by a mosquito whining for my heat. I chose a stranger’s mouth because it rhymed with love, because it finished me off like a sentence. My throat like a hummingbird’s, mistaken for a jewel. The kiss stuffing my mouth with smoke. There was a river, a thralling, how I trembled against my own hand. Of course what I remember most are the dangers of descent — gypsum flowers making a forest of the cave, its stones aching open like hands to receive the gifts—candles, photos, teacups, my torn hood. The spring dripped its steady syllables. Arise, arise. I was still myself after, but a new grief opened inside me like an umbrella. Gentle shield. Generous shadow. My knowledge made me soft and unmerciful. All three heads of the dog turned towards the sound of its name.

[brightdeadthing]

Late Novena, Traci Brimhall