Stork - Halo

“You look like a dark ghost
Standing with the curtains drawn
I can’t see where
Your body ends”

at the inflections of my existence
the wheels that carried 
my first deep kiss, the flair of sixteen
and all the things that you loved about us
are pulled to retreat, four hours north
to the glenn of Tallahassee

she is not a city
to which I can place my name
she has never felt my feet
on her doorstep
standing without talking, 
in a cold march rain

she has yet to know
my sleeping patterns
and the way I make
breakfast cereal, at 2 am
hoping that a bit of sun can be 
drawn through my window though
the universe had decided
i should consume but melatonin

but in her green’s, so 
often for me under grey,
I have learned of my love
for cool breathes, shaded by
warm human tones
she has held my hand and 
slowly taught her lesson —
of the things that matter
—to love each and only those

I ride her breasts now,
rolling up and down 
Pensacola
the largest earthen place
i have yet to tame
perhaps if I press hard enough
she will begin to remember my face

(via anxietyisthedizzynessoffreedom)

fireflies in my spider veins
sleeping parts
of oak body
waking

(via paperlilie)

Bella Donna -The Avett Brothers

stardust

photo kudos to my good friend Mario Pita

Bryan John Appleby - The Lake

“And the cold pulls you down
It pulls you down 
Pulls you down, down, down”

it’s just coffee
but the faces are wrong
where did the raven girl go,
who used to make us wonder
about beauty and the future

what is the pale man doing
now that the boys he loved
have left and grown

there are still enough collars
for the one of us
left sitting on a couch made
for five

it’s as if your voices
are hanging 
in the yellow hum
behind the glass windows
between the paris-scape 
and accordions played
by children

to where did the meek lover wander
she with her heart full of hope
and hands so longing for 
direction
her black dress once 
adorned the corner by the rails
leading out and right back
to “No Trespassing” signs

to where have I flowed 
that I am the last
of the old ones
to go?

thebags-under-oureyes:

100/365

I tried

-some parts from this poem and a quote by Frida Kahlo used-

(via sweetlotus)

the year that passed
(everyone, and the way the lovers laughed)
as I do a friend who faded off
into the black
perhaps she is attending 
a small liberal arts school
in the green hills of our arbitrary north

does she still remember?
winding on, taking breaths
and occasionally stumbling back
when ocean alcohol
forces me upon her sense

or am I one left
with the potentials for two
we slept with cigarettes
we had not the urge to smoke
but to feel one entwined with you

(Source: tobwaylan, via scrapedpalms)

nickgerber:

Crisp

Iron & Wine - The Trapeze Swinger

every single word.

2/15/13

My head is a lockbox
For do you remembers
And hoped out tomorrows
None of my potentiations speak
“Kiss me now”
And perhaps this
Is why I sleep alone

In a bed crafted from
Typewritten horses 
Legs
Riding to the homes
I had once known
Or will never touch
Living sadly other lives
For I have not learned
How to make this one enough