June, July, August.
Everything wrong, and nowhere to go.
Mary Oliver, from Devotions: The Selected Poems; “August,” (edited)
Etikett: him with a capital h
“My love stays bitterly glowing,
spasms of it will not sleep.”— Anne Sexton – from Divorce (via loveage-moondream)
I imagined simply the peace of hours when we were lost in one another as harmonious colors blend. I understood that on this earth there can blossom faerie kisses without regret or shame.
Renée Vivien, tr. by Jeanette H. Foster, from “A Woman Appeared To Me,”
I am on fire with that soft sound / You make, in uttering my name.
James Elroy Flecker, from The Collected Poems; “We That Were Friends,”
I would love to talk to you about many things and see you listening silently; to read to you sometime.
Rainer Maria Rilke, from a letter to Lou Salomé witten c. April 1904
He is like a moonbeam, like a shaft of silver.
Salomé by Oscar Wilde
beberequin 