Dorothea Lasky

Please tell me that I was a good child And that I did everything right And that the atmosphere was exactly certain I want you to love me In ways that you never have So that I become a forgotten world With rainbow sunrises over dark green trees And the cooling of the day Becomes normal again We will sit and watch the body of water That we once called a sort of death You know even in my dreams You say I’ll never get it right This is not a dream We are burning here with no escape But no matter how many times They talk about the moon It does not take a poet To know that the moon Is still only an illusion Only an illusion The moon calls out to all of us Come back, it says But we don’t hear it Already on our way To somewhere

from why poetry can be hard for most people by dorothea lasky, published in rome

The haunting of bly manor (2020), dir. by Mike Flanagan

marianne stokes death and the maiden \\ anaïs nin henry and june: from the unexpurgated diary of anaïs nin \\ dorothea lasky awe: "monsters" \\ @sanctus-ingenium \\ marlon james black leopard, red wolf \\ @heavensghost (florence welch useless magic: lyrics and poetry)

from why poetry can be hard for most people by dorothea lasky, published in rome

Imperial feminism

The medical profession