Where the wild roses rot

Fuck me. Fuck me with your eyes when you ask what type of cereal I want in the morning and how I wrap myself into my blankets at night, whether or not I leave one leg out for the demons to grab. Fuck me with your words when you tell me I look like the way sunshine feels and that I am the kind of beautiful that poets die trying to describe. Fuck me with your heart when you tell me that you carry this love for me like a ticking time bomb because you know that it will one day consume us both alive. — Aiden aka K.P.K. 

— Adyashanti

TALES FROM EASTERN WOODS by SHUME ( MICHAŁ KLIMCZAK)

Autumn 🍂   It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon.

https://www.wikiart.org/en/henri-fantin-latour/chrysanthemums-1889

https://www.instagram.com/resa_rot/

Jaroslav Vávra (1920–1981)  Značky a znamení (Marks and signs), c. 1970 

a walk in the clouds

Doe

Hideki Fujii

— Ajahn Chah (via spirituallyminded)