You Ever Look At Something You Made & You’re Like Wow. Ugly. But Mine

My ancestors, watching me dump an entire stick of cinnamon, two cloves, an allspice berry, and a generous grating of nutmeg into my tea, sweetened with white sugar and loaded with cream, while I sit in my clean warm house surrounded by books, 25+ outfits for different occasions, and 6 pairs of shoes, in a building heated so well I have the windows open in mid-autumn:

Our daughter prospers. We are proud of her. She has never labored in a field but knows riches we could not have imagined.

TARA BRAY, “LISTEN”

“They preyed on each other and one of them ate the other. He has no words for what is revealed to him”

—

Adonis, from Singular in a Plural Form; A Piece of Bahlul’s Sun. Trans. Khaled Mattawa.

who’s your favorite poet? edgar allen poe? yikes. why isn’t it someone actually important like flo milli

you’re in his dms, i’m the mongoose he wants under the house when the snakes slither by. we are not the same

birds hover the trampled field / richard siken

what is your cishet male trait mine is being a car fan

Mr Darcy: “I’m not going to another Ball.”

Mr Bingley: “I heard Elizabeth Bennet is attending.”

Mr Darcy:

insta: books.read.in.nooks

“[Love] consists in this: that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other.”

— Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters To A Young Poet (via soracities)