— Audre Lorde, from “Uses of the Erotic,” in Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches

— Juansen Dizon

There is nothing but sweetness between us as melt into the same feeling, your lips and my lips I can no longer distinguish them and my fervent hands that can not stop worshiping you, already have your essence tattooed on them and my verses already taste so much of your love, that to write is to have you here with me, making the pen pour out heart. I make your words mine, because the feeling that beats in our chest is one and the same and your voice gets confused with my voice and all our rhythms beat together effortlessly. Loving you is the most beautiful way of living and I know I was born to love you and to offer you my tenderness and passion, to bathe you in the deepest and most fragrant of loves. And it is the most beautiful thing to know that you do understand how much and how I love you, and you know this madness that explodes in my chest and the words that overflow from my lips. And if someday you could no longer be here, I would leave every door open so that you could leave but also later return to me because your freedom is the feet with which I walk and your wings, the words with which I write.

Dark and Stormy Jupiter

— L.L.

[Text ID: “what the earth is, we are, We are seas mingling–”]

— Vandana Khanna, from Insignificant Beginnings in “Afternoon Masala: Poems By Vandana Khanna” (via adrasteiax)

— Jean Frémon, from “Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Gloves,” trans. Cole Swenson, Southern Review (vol. 56, no. 1, Winter 2020)

Comet (2014)

— Chuck Akot

via weheartit

— Lukas W. // Blood of the past

— Fernando Pessoa, from The Book of Disquiet (via minuty)

- (C.B)