luvrgrl99

[luvrgrl99]

Ethel Cain, photographed by Silken Weinberg for WMagazine

[luvrgrl99]

[luvrgrl99]

[luvrgrl99]

mieke v. willems

[luvrgrl99]

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

[luvrgrl99]

what are u romanticizing today u little homo

#wine #and #listening to music while writing

[luvrgrl99]

[luvrgrl99]

[luvrgrl99]

@maralafontan

[luvrgrl99]

on love❣️

i can’t think of any greater happiness than to be with you all the time, without interruption, endlessly, even though i feel that here in this world there’s no other undisturbed place for our love, neither in the village nor anywhere else; and i dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and i would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more. (franz kafka)

this post:

“does she love you?” “yes” “did she say so?” “no” “so how do you know?” “well… each time she returns my books, there are flowers inside” (…) “does she read them?” “of course she does!” “does she? have you asked her?” “i can see she’s underlined the good bits” “does she want to save mankind too?” “yes” “how do you know?” “by the sentences she underlines” “is that enough to know she wants to save mankind?” “yes” (a moment of innocence, 1996)

that’s not what i meant to say at all / i mean, i’m sick of meaning i just wanna hold you (…) those are you got some nice shoulders / i’d like to put my hands around them (car seat headrest)

peaceful embrace by briony marshall:

“hey,” he said, half asleep, “what were you before you met me?” / “i think i was drowning.” / a pause. / “and what are you now?” he whispered, sinking. / i thought for a second. “water.” (ocean vuong)

i love you. i want us both to eat well. (christopher citro)

come let me love you, let me give my life to you / let me drown in your laughter, let me die in your arms / let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you / come let me love you, come love me again (john denver)

this painting by salman toor:

i could say something fantastically rare and exotic but really, love is the rarest thing of all. (roja dove)

don’t think i fell for you, or fell over you. i didn’t fall in love, i rose in it. i saw you and made up my mind. (toni morrison)

you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry. only the sun has come this close, only the sun. (shauna barbosa)

oh! if you could only walk / into this room / again and touch me anywhere / i swear / i would not long for heaven or / for earth / more than i’d wish to stay there / touched / and touching you (june jordan)

this:

i wanted to tell them that i never knew that people like Dante existed in the world, people who looked at the stars, and knew the mysteries of water, and knew enough to know that birds belonged to the heavens and weren’t meant to be shot down from their graceful flights by mean and stupid boys. (benjamin alire sáenz)

from here:

someone will remember us / i say / even in another time (sappho)

i have let tenderness in. every night i am coming home to warm food and lamplight leaking out of the windows into the night, and tenderness is holding the door open. (oumaima @douceurs)

that’s how i loved you. / you, off the long train from red bank carrying / a coffee as big as your arm, a bag with two / computers swinging in it unwieldily at your / sude. i remember we broke into laughter / when we saw each other. what was between / us wasn’t a fragile thing to be coddled, cooed / over. it came out fully formed, ready to run. (ada limón)

trevante rhodes about moonlight:

Well Marianne, it’s come to this time when we are really so old and our bodies are falling apart and I think I will follow you very soon. Know that I am so close behind you that if you stretch out your hand, I think you can reach mine. (leonard cohen to marianne ilhen)

Couple on a train, photo by Vivian Maier, 1956

[luvrgrl99]

Vincent Van Gogh  ,1889 

The white cottage among  olive trees 

[luvrgrl99]

ig: erinpaton

[luvrgrl99]

“I want to be cured Of a craving for something I cannot find And of the shame of never finding it.”

— T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party

[luvrgrl99]

The Banks of The Seine in Autumn, 1876, Claude Monet

[luvrgrl99]

Skye O'Neill

[luvrgrl99]

[luvrgrl99]