and everything’s holy

[macrolit]

“I cannot remember the books I’ve read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

[flowerytale]

Susan Sontag, from As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks 1964-1980

[apocryphics]

begin again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and

[altivyx]

[feral-ballad]

Savannah Brown, from Closer Baby Closer; “My god, girlhood ripened”

[Text ID: “Oh I only want to write / about tomorrow / Tomorrow / I’ll be wiser and scarier / and so much harder to trick oh / it will be the best / and only day of my life”]

[yesterdaysprint]

Huddersfield Daily Examiner, West Yorkshire, January 21, 1947

[watermotif]

A pleasure to have in the labyrinth

[wovi]

[havingapoemwithyou]

Want by Joan Larkin

[masrogy-deactivated20260329]

[victoriajoan]

Lucy Ives, "Ten Writing Prompts"

[kosmogrl]

[xanaxfarts]

[miquellakind]

in most baking recipes that require it, love can be substituted with truth

[polish-lolita]

when is a man going to give all his blood for the sweetness of my laughter

[syringavulgaris]

from I Am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan, collected, translated, and presented by Eliza Griswold

[victoriajoan]

If I were to write a poem today it would be about amaretto coffee. Showering and not washing my hair, pulling up the sides of my underwear so my hips look bigger, playing Etta James while putting away laundry. My love would be making dinner. He would bring me a glass of wine and sit on our dresser while I took my first sip. I would light a candle and say, “don’t you love this ambiance? Why didn’t you vacuum today?” He would say, “come eat with me.” The poem would be about being in love for a long time. You would be able to tell that this is what it is about without knowing anything else.