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Quote reblogged from pocus. with 1 note
We are still wakeful: light, over and over,
amasses and flares on the quiet-breathing curtains
and then shears precipitously off, as the
night traffic swings past, shaking the windows.
We are in some old film about lovers in wartime,
and we grip hard, not knowing how it will end.
Source: pocus
Quote with 7 notes
Your body told me in a dream it’s never been afraid of anything.
Post with 3 notes
I want to be a lost poem in a stranger’s coat pocket, that conveys the importance of you. To assure you of my desire, to assure you of dreams.
I want all the possibilities of you in writing.
I want to give you your reflection, I want your eyes on me, I want to travel to the lightness with you and stay there, and I want everything before you… …everything before you to follow us like a trail behind me.
I want never to say goodbye to you, even on the street corner or the phone. I want, I want so much… I’m breathless.
I want to put my power into a poem to burn a hole in your pocket so I can sew it.
I want my words to scream through you. I want the poem not to mean that much.
And I want to contradict myself by accident, and for you to know what I mean.
I want you to be distant and for me to feel you close, I want endless days when it’s day and… nighttime never to end when it’s night.
I want all the seasons in one day.
I want the sun to set before us and come up in front of us.
I want water up to our waists and to be drenched by the rain, up to our ankles with holes in our shoes. …with holes in our shoes.
I want to think your thoughts because they’re mine.
I want only what’s urgent with you.
I want to get in the way of the barriers and I want you to be a tough guy when you’re supposed to, like you do already. …when you’re supposed to. And I want you to be tender, like you do already.
And I want us to have met for a reason and I want that reason to be important.
And I want it to be bigger than us, I want it to take over us.
I want to forget.
I want to remember us.
And when you say you love me I don’t want to think you really mean New York City, and all the fun we have in it.
And I want your smile always, and your grimaces too.
I want your scar on my lips, and I want your disappointments in my heart.
I want your strength in my soul and I want your soul in my eyes.
I want to believe everything you say, and I do. And I want you to tell me what’s best when I don’t know.
And when you’re lost I want to find you.
And when you’re weary I want to give you steeples and cathedral thoughts and coliseum dreams.
I want to drag you from the darkness and kneel with you exhausted with the blinding light blaring on us… and…
— Nicole Burdette
Post with 2 notes
I’m going to fail simply by standing in front of you,
waving my arms in your face as if hailing a taxi:
I’m here, I’m here, please don’t forget me,
though you already have, I smell it, even cloaked
with soil, sending out my slender fingers for you,
sending out all my hair and tongue and brain.
I’m going to fail you
just as you’re going to fail me
— Paisley Rekdal; Strawberry
Who hasn’t lodged in the belly of something, who hasn’t been devoured?
But you must have grown out of
a thousand years dreaming
just like I could never imagine you.
You must have
broke open from another sky
to here, because
now I see you as part of the millions of
other universes that I thought could never occur
in this breathing.
And I know you as myself, traveling.
In your eyes alone are many colonies of stars
and other circling planet motion.
And then your fingers, the sweet smell
of hair, and
your soft, tight belly.
My heart is taken by you
and these mornings since I am a horse running towards
a cracked sky where there are countless dawns
breaking simultaneously.
if I had met you I would probably have been unfair to you or you to me. it was best like this.
Tigers
What are we now but voices
who promise each other a life
neither one can deliver
not for lack of wanting
but wanting won’t make it so.
We cling to a vine at the cliff’s edge.
There are tigers above
and below. Let us love
one another and let go.
— Eliza Griswold
Post with 4 notes
Boston
I watched two men
press hard into
each other, their bodies
caught in the club’s
bass drum swell,
and I couldn’t remember
when I knew I’d never
be beautiful, but it must
have been quick
and subtle, the way
the holy ghost can pass
in and out of a room.
I want so desperately
to be finished with desire,
the rushing wind, the still
small voice.
— Aaron Smith
Quote with 7 notes
J’étais si près de toi que j’ai froid près des autres.
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