❝Outside of me: the smell of cotton and a washed-blue boy speaking italicized words about washed-blue chords while I kneel, listening under a washed-blue sky
An ordinary day- anything extra I've yet to find outside of you.
If I can be found under the blue breast pocket of our worn out shirt I'd rather sit here with you softening the pavement beneath my knees with your favorite washed-blue sounds and stretch and shrink with each breath you take
And it's just like every other day.❞ - Michelle Myers
❝My eyes meet yours on scattered wavelengths, through different wires. And though we don't actually see one another I can feel your presence Lying in the fact that what we view what we view together, is the same.
If I were to change this channel, soften the focus, I would lose your essence. You would be so many currents away, fleeting a gaze, just stretching, stretching. If only electrons could jump so far I'd see you once again in the reflection of this medium, two dimensions wide.
I'd put out my hand willing to waste a while on your whim, only to hit the glass. the glass that placed you here. And in the sigh of a movement, I'd jump Back, back into focus, one lucid and true.
But that doesn't mean that you're gone Because I know, if I look again, Maybe an inch closer this time, I'll see you feel you, generating your awareness of me through that same static elegance that allows us to meet.
My eyes are tired now, fluttering and falling in, not out, of our kiss, our kissing eyes.❞ - Justin
❝We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.❞ - E.E. Cummings
❝ May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art - write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself. ❞ - Neil Gaiman
Comments 192
the smell of cotton
and a washed-blue boy
speaking italicized words
about washed-blue chords
while I kneel, listening
under a washed-blue sky
An ordinary day-
anything extra I've yet to find
outside of you.
If I can be found
under the blue breast pocket
of our worn out shirt
I'd rather sit here with you
softening the pavement beneath my knees
with your favorite washed-blue sounds
and stretch and shrink
with each breath you take
And it's just like every other day.❞
- Michelle Myers
Reply
Reply
on scattered wavelengths,
through different wires.
And though we don't actually see one another
I can feel your presence
Lying
in the fact that what we view
what we view together,
is the same.
If I were to change this channel,
soften the focus,
I would lose your essence.
You would be so many currents away,
fleeting a gaze, just stretching,
stretching.
If only electrons could jump so far
I'd see you once again
in the reflection of this medium,
two dimensions wide.
I'd put out my hand
willing to waste a while on your whim,
only to hit the glass.
the glass
that placed you here.
And in the sigh of a movement, I'd jump
Back,
back into focus, one lucid and true.
But that doesn't mean that you're gone
Because I know, if I look again,
Maybe an inch closer this time,
I'll see you
feel you,
generating your awareness of me
through that same static elegance that allows us to meet.
My eyes are tired now,
fluttering and falling
in, not out,
of our kiss,
our kissing eyes.❞
- Justin
Reply
- E.E. Cummings
Reply
- Neil Gaiman
Reply
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