the heart its own rough animal
poetry tumblr: GRAMMATOLATRY
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What did I mean that during parties I choose the sofa // like a sick cat? That when tattoos are dispensed I’m first / in line? That books full of other people’s misery // make the beach infinitely more pleasant? Stargazing is another weakness. / Too much I examine the patch of dirt where nothing grows // where buried curiosa aren’t deep enough, though in Short Answer / I’m all for dancing alone in a silken robe. Friends call. // Mostly the machine answers. Mozart makes me cry. / I kill spiders without guilt.

Simply Genius Shower Thoughts With Nick Offerman [x]

(via flourhoneyandmilk)

I know that homes burn and that you should think what to save before they start to. Not because, in the heat of it, everything looks as valuable as everything else. But, because nothing looks worth the bother, not even your life.
Amy Hempel, The Collected Stories (via re-sonare)
There are moments in our lives when we summon the courage to make choices that go against reason, against common sense and the wise counsel of people we trust. But we lean forward nonetheless because, despite all risks and rational argument, we believe that the path we are choosing is the right and best thing to do. We refuse to be bystanders, even if we do not know exactly where our actions will lead.
This is the kind of passionate conviction that sparks romances, wins battles, and drives people to pursue dreams others wouldn’t dare. Belief in ourselves and in what is right catapults us over hurdles, and our lives unfold.
Howard Schultz, Onward (via ohhfrontier)

(via nosuchthing)

Darling, sometimes I think I shouldn’t let you come back. This has all gone on too long. It is so hard to love someone so inconstant, someone who is so often fading before my eyes. But I know I will always welcome your return. The way you crack open the sky to come home to me. It is all I can do to bathe in your brilliance. Beautiful, after all this time you still control my every move. I become such a monster when I miss you. Darling, it is always so dark when you’re gone.
From The Ocean To The Moon; Clementine Von Radics (via hollyflowers)

(via aliszoob)

Just a little Jeanette Winterson illustration from Sexing the Cherry on my shin.

I meant

skies all empty aching blue. I meant
years. I meant all of them with you.

Kate Clanchy, excerpt from Perhaps Patagonia (via yesyes)

Forget it.

Still a draft.  Always.

(first draft)

Knowing everything we know, this line explains a lot.

first draft

This was the last thing I wrote for him.

I am certain
that your touch would still
turn my knees and elbows
back to wine,
Old things I learned from you
float before me
always looking
like something else.
Judy Kastner Stillman, excerpt from Old Lover Poem #54 (via theoryoflostthings)