— v, from “excerpt from a book i will never write” (via letsbelonelytogetherr)
Aimé Césaire, from The Complete Poetry of Aimé Césaire; “The Great Noon,”
Henri Cole, from a poem titled "Twilight," featured in A Century of Poetry in the New Yorker
— unknown (via letsbelonelytogetherr)
I’ll never be the loudest in the room, but I’ll always be the one who notices when you need a quiet place to breathe.
Louise Glück, from Faithful and Virtuous Night: Poems; "A Foreshortened Journey,"
i want you to read me like a book, turn each page delicately in your hunger to know me more and more. gonna melt your barriers with each word im whispering silently. i want to make you tremble as you enter my realm, deeper and deeper being fully intoxicating with my presence. to make you feel me under your skin with each word you’re reading, forgetting everything you’ve ever known for that moment, letting yourself be taken away into my mind, as a river claiming its prisoner. you can’t fight it now but god, you wouldn’t even dream of escaping now.
so now you belong to me. entirely. wholeheartedly.
Mary Oliver, “What Was Once the Largest Shopping Center in Northern Ohio Was Built Where There Had Been a Pond I Used to Visit Every Summer Afternoon.” Why I Wake Early
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