wordsarewordsarewords:

i read you like a poem

soft beats match your sharp breaths
metaphors harmonize with your sighs
stanza by stanza, line by line
i spoke rhymes against your chest

to kiss your lips
and feel the tight grasp of your fingers
to rotate around your hips
and relish in the way your touch always lingers

plush tendrils of your hair dance
lazily along my spine
as i take just one last chance
to finally make you mine

your name is a riddle
i don’t ever want to solve
i won’t let our love dwindle
for you’re the center i wish to always revolve

(via peaing)

ruininglines:

I called you last night to speak,
but you weren’t there
and you’ve never not been there.

I took two steps away and
whispered in your ear,
“there’s a bridge outside the door
and it’s climbing through
the window”.

“You’re not Peter Pan”,
you said,
“and I’m not Wendy”. 

(via peaing)

-

The Way We Live Now - 11-11-01 - Lost and Found

I don’t have anything to say about today except that you should read Colson Whitehead on New York City.

(via emchughes)

(via ohheyyy-)

paradoxicalsentiments:

The art of losing isn’t hard to master; 
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like a disaster.

- Elizabeth Bishop