I Could Just Cry

I could just cry

thank you very much everyone who has ever been nice to me i owe you my life

the word lover is so infinitely soft. So universal. So timeless. Two girls with awkward, hungry hands. A boy and a girl in the dark. Two men in empty light. A marriage of 40 years. Letters over eons. Sappho’s poems. The corner of a mouth. Lovers, lovers, lovers.

in desperate NEED of good poems. please send/rb with your fave poems < 3

i'm thinking about charlotte brontë spending her last years editing and publishing her sisters' writings and about christopher tolkien dedicating his life to the protection and meticulous reconstruction his father's life's work and about johanna van gogh publishing the letters between vincent and theo that would propel vincent van gogh into fame because she knew how much her husband had loved his brother, and about how so often art isn't just a reflection of the artist's mind and skills but a testament to the fact that they were loved

Angelica Attached to the Rock by Jules-Louis Machard (1869)