22/06/18 16:35:06
💐 in the clay pot by the window
the arthritic orchid
unsticks its tongue
and with fat-knuckled roots
pokes the dust for water
the crayon sun emerges from the clouds
and draws the water from the garden 🌼

22/06/18 16:35:06
💐 in the clay pot by the window
the arthritic orchid
unsticks its tongue
and with fat-knuckled roots
pokes the dust for water
the crayon sun emerges from the clouds
and draws the water from the garden 🌼

22/06/18 16:34:31
💐 in the clay pot by the window
the arthritic orchid
unsticks its tongue
and with fat-knuckled roots
pokes the dust for water
the crayon sun emerges from the clouds
and draws the water from the garden 🌼

what’s fertile in a wound? why dwell in one? (at Tate Modern)

☀️ putting yourself first is not selfish

worrying about what you need is not selfish

telling someone no is not selfish

cutting toxic people out of your life to get better is not selfish

opening up to people about your problems is not selfish

setting boundaries is not selfish

helping yourself before you help others is not selfish

making yourself a priority is not selfish

taking time for yourself is not selfish

doing what you know is best for yourself is not selfish

loving yourself is not selfish 💙

✨ their concept of beauty is manufactured, and i am not

limitless

listen, nothing can quite replicate the smell of freshly-baked bread

🌴 The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
— Maya Angelou

🌸🌿 the garden of eros by oscar wilde

“Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?”

— Edgar Allan Poe ✨

her dress is made of molten ore
silk against her springy skin
her eyes are pressured pebbles of summer core
nine hundred lives from wearing thin
the scarf she wound around her hips
softer than a lamb
the teeth behind upturned boat lips
smile graceful and pre-planned
she extends her long, slender wrist
coaxes us all into one mineral
a tender jewel, a pretty twist
worn until her funeral (at Glasgow, United Kingdom)

🎬 “3PO, you tell that slimy piece of worm-ridden filth he’ll get no such pleasure from us.” ♥️

🌿🌟 keep it real or keep away from me (at Ashton Lane)