Flashing Bright

You’ll understand why storms are named after people.

His body smelled like a precious-wood forest; his hair, like sandalwood, his skin, like cedar. It was as if he had always lived among trees and plants.

i will wade out                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air                                       Alive                                                 with closed eyes to dash against darkness                                       in the sleeping curves of my body Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery with chasteness of sea-girls                                            Will i complete the mystery                                            of my flesh I will rise               After a thousand years lipping flowers             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

The cosmos is within us. We are made of star stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.

Do you realize that all great literature is all about what a bummer it is to be a human being? Isn’t it such a relief to have somebody say that?

True friends are those rare people who come to find you in dark places and lead you back to the light.

I’d happily take all those bullets inside you and put them inside of myself.

“For someone who wants to be touched, I cringe an awful lot with contact. ”

You have me. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me.

If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression Of something beautiful, but annihilating.

Honestly, we’re probably more suicidal than ever now.

When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.

I trust you to find the good in me, but the bad I must be sure you don’t overlook.

You have such a February face, so full of frost, of storm and cloudiness.

My mind is a house with walls covered in pain, See my problem is, I don’t fix things I just try to repaint, cover em up, like it never happen

Her fight and fury is fiery Oh but she loves Like sleep to the freezing Sweet and right and merciful I’m all but washed In the tide of her breathing.