love waltz with fireworks by Kelli Russell Agodon

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

tannertan36
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz

Love Begins
Misplaced Lens Cap
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

oozey mess
YOU ARE THE REASON

blake kathryn
we're not kids anymore.

@theartofmadeline
Today's Document
Jules of Nature
RMH

pixel skylines
Sweet Seals For You, Always

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@shannonsutorius
love waltz with fireworks by Kelli Russell Agodon

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Michael Cunningham, on Annie Proulx's “Brokeback Mountain”, The New Yorker, 24 February 2025
*
vicki rivard
it goes by so fast!!!! Love while you can
The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien

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they don’t know that when one loves this way the shroud becomes a wedding dress.
Louise Glück, Meadowlands; from ‘Ithaca’
suddenly remembered this poem as i was making breakfast this morning & frantically googled “poem remembered to buy eggs?????????” & somehow managed to find it & it utterly knocked the wind out of me just as much as when i first read it
!!!!! this one has a spoken word performance by the poet who wrote it!!
[ID: A poem. It reads:
Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries, took the bus home, carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment and cooked myself dinner. You and I may have different definitions of a good day. This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill, worked 60 hours between my two jobs, only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks and slept like a rock. Flossed in the morning, locked my door, and remembered to buy eggs. My mother is proud of me. It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course. She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale” with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs” But she is proud. See, she remembers what came before this. The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles, how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks. She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide. These were the bad days. My life was a gift that I wanted to return. My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs. Depression, is a good lover. So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you. And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world, That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting. It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created. Today, I slept in until 10, cleaned every dish I own, fought with the bank, took care of paperwork. You and I might have different definitions of adulthood. I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college, but I don’t speak for others anymore, and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for. And my mother is proud of me. I burned down a house of depression, I painted over murals of greyscale, and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live But today, I want to live. I didn’t salivate over sharp knives, or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge. I just cleaned my bathroom, did the laundry, called my brother. Told him, “it was a good day.” - Kait Rokowski, "A Good Day". End ID]
Cecilia Woloch, from Carpathia; “Postcard Beginning with a Quote from Mark C., Avenue de l’Opéra”
Cecilia Woloch, from Carpathia; “Postcard to X from Warsaw, Ulica Piękna (“Pretty Street”)”
She had no idea how to cope with life and she was only vaguely aware of her own inner emptiness. Were she capable of explaining herself, she might well confide: the world stands outside me. I stand outside myself.
Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star

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Nikita Gill, from her book titled "Hekate: the Witch: Poems", published in 2025
Langston Hughes, “Litany.” Selected poems of Langston Hughes
on trees
J. R. R. Tolkien ("The Fellowship of the Ring"), Parte de todo (src), Faiz Ahmed Faiz/tr. Naomi Lazard ("When Autumn Came"), Marina Tsvetaeva, a photo by me (src), Margaret Atwood ("War Photo 2"), photo (src), Tony Hoagland (“Peaceful Transition”), Slope Point, New Zealand (src), Tara Bray ("Listen"), Max Dupain ("Banksias by the Sea"), Mary Oliver ("When I am Among the Trees"), source unknown, Ted Kooser ("Trees")
Franz Kafka, from a letter to Oskar Pollak [tr. Winston (1977)]
Anaïs Nin

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On Being Lyrical, E. M. Cioran (translated by Ilinca Zarifopol-Johnston)
Sally Wen Mao, from “Close Encounters of the Liminal Kind”, Oculus