Yes:
Let the wax raise
green statues, let the honey
drip in infinite tongues, let the ocean be a big comb
and the Earth a tunic of flowers, let the World
be a cascade, magnificent hair, unceasing
growth of Beedom.
– Pablo Neruda –
cradle and all…
And he loves her. He loves her like he can never grab enough of her between his fingers. And no matter how close he gets,
even when they make love, it never feels close enough.
— Iain S. Thomas —
cumming into your own…
… our battle cry for authenticity and the ideas it creates about who we are can sometimes serve to guard us against vulnerability. These places we call “in-authenticity” may just be the edges, or the uncharted territories, of who we consider ourselves to be. Consciously going to the edges of what we feel is “authentic” may actually be an opening to increased possibilities…
– necessary shenanigans, “the practice of play” –
where i want you, where i want me…
sing to the moon…
i cannot keep…
remembering you…
Remembering you…
The fireflies of this marsh
seem like sparks
that rise
from my body’s longing.
– Izumi Shikibu –
(translated by Jane Hirshfield and Mariko Aratani)
beautiful child…
I’m not sure if my heart should be ignored
I’ll follow any thing that leads me to your door…
… You just drive me wild
– The Blow Monkeys –
singin’ in the rain…
What a glorious feelin’
