"The road that brought me here today has been anything but easy, but I've persevered, conscious of this pain as a reminder of just how precious life is."
The Miracles of the Namiya General Store, by. Keigo Higashino
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@justanotherchair
"The road that brought me here today has been anything but easy, but I've persevered, conscious of this pain as a reminder of just how precious life is."
The Miracles of the Namiya General Store, by. Keigo Higashino

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Three Good Things
Jan Dean
At day's end I remember
three good things.
Apples maybe — their skinshine smell
and soft froth of juice
Water maybe — the pond in the park
dar and full of secret fish.
A mountain maybe — that I saw in a film,
or climbed last holiday,
and suddenly today it thundered up
into a playground game.
Or else an owl — I heard an owl today,
and I made bread.
My head is full of all these things,
it's hard to choose just three.
I let remembering fill me up
with all good things
so that good things will overflow
into my sleeping self,
and in the morning
good things will be waiting
when I wake.
19 March, A Poem For Every Spring Day, Allie Esiri
Knocks on the Door
Maram al-Massri
Knocks on the door.
Who?
I sweep the dust of my loneliness
under the rug.
I arrange a smile
and open.
10 March, A Poem For Every Spring Day, Allie Esiri
Eat the world: A collection of poems, by. Marina Diamandis
Cocoon
Eat the world: A collection of poems, by. Marina Diamandis

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"Is it predictable of me to fall in love with a place built on shaky ground?"
Soft Warning
Eat the world: A collection of poems, by. Marina Diamandis
girl who finally is going back to reading by finishing one book: now i'm going to read all the books in the world.
"To put down roots, though I so badly want to,
but I fear they'll be cut up and snatched if I do"
Soft Warning
Eat the world: A collection of poems, by. Marina Diamandis
A celle qui est voilée (To the one who is veiled)
By. Victor Marie Hugo
You speak to me from the depths of a dream
Like a soul speaks to the living.
Like the foam from the shore,
Your dress flutters in the winds.
I am the algae of the countless waves,
The captive of victorious destiny;
I am the one that all the shadow
Covers without extinguishing his heart.
My mind looks like this island,
And my fate to this ocean;
And I am the quiet dweller
Lightning and hurricane.
I am the outlaw who veils himself,
Who dreams and sings, far from the noise,
With the owl and the star,
The dark song of the night.
Are you not, like myself,
Torch in this harsh and vile world,
Soul, that is to say problem,
And woman, that is to say exile?
Come out of the cloud, charming shadow.
O ghost, let yourself be seen!
Be a beacon in my turmoil,
Be a look in my black sky!
Look for me among the seagulls!
Spread a ray on my reef,
And, in my silent depths,
The whiteness of the pensive angel!
Be the wing that passes and mixes
To the great angry waves.
Oh, come on! you must be very beautiful,
For your distant song is very sweet;
For night brings dawn;
Maybe it's a law from heaven
May my dark destiny bring forth
Your mysterious smile!
In this dark world where I wander,
We must realize,
You, all made of light,
Me, all made up of duty!
You tell me from afar that you love me,
And that, at night, on the horizon,
You come to see the pale shores
The white specter of my house.
There, meditating under the great dome,
Near the restlessly agitated flow,
Surprise to find the atom
Resembling the immensity,
You compare, without knowing me,
The wave to man, the shadow to the banished,
My lamp shining on my window
To the starry body of infinity!
Sometimes, like at the bottom of a grave,
I feel you on my fatal forehead,
Mouth of the Unknown from which falls
The pure kiss of the Ideal.
With your breath, towards God pushed,
I feel within me, sweet fear,
Shudder all my thoughts,
Leaves of the inner tree.
But you don't want anyone to see you;
You come and you flee in turn;
You don't want to call yourself joy,
Having said: My name is love.
Oh ! take one more step! Come, come in,
If no duty forbids him;
Come see my soul in its lair,
The lion spirit, the child heart;
Come see the desert where I live
Alone under my scary ceiling;
Be the angel in the cenobite's house,
Be clarity in the seer.
Change into pearls in my rubble
All my drops of sweat!
Come and pose on my dark works
Your finger from which a light comes out!
From the edge of the sinister ravines
Of dream and vision,
I glimpse divine things... -
Complete the appearance!
Come see the dreamer who bursts into flames
As it destroys itself,
And, day by day, in his soul
More death and less night!
Come ! come into my haggard mist,
Where faith is born, where the spirit comes from,
Where confusedly I look
The obscure forms of fate.
Everything is lit up with funereal lights;
God, for the saddened thinker,
Always opens in the darkness
Sudden gulfs of clarity.
Before being on this earth,
I feel that I once hovered;
I was the solitary archangel,
And my misfortune is to have been born.
On my soul, which was a dove,
Come, you who have the seal of heaven.
Sometimes a feather falls
On the corpse of a bird.
Yes, my irreparable misfortune,
It is to hang on the two elements,
It is to have in me, wretch,
Of the mire and the firmaments!
Alas! alas! it is to be a man;
It's to think that I was beautiful,
To not know what my name is,
To be a sky and to be a tomb!
It's being a convict who wanders
His vile toil under the blue sky;
It's to wear the human hood
Where I had your wings, my God!
It’s dragging matter;
It is to be full, I, son of the day,
From the earth of the cemetery,
Even when I cry: Love!