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(Untitled)
Thinking of somebody else, somebody
Unique, and like treasure I’ve yet to discover,
Step by step, and poppy by poppy, -
I beheaded the garden, flower by flower.
Exactly thus, some dry summer day,
Somewhere, on the edge of a field, I’ll stand,
And my head will also be plucked away
By Death’s absent-minded hand.
marina tsvetaeva -
(Untitled)
After a night of insomnia, the body gets weaker ( Read more... ) -
word on the street
everybody is ready for fucking spring.
