leahmichelleramillano

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an oldie,

with an excerpt rewritten from a different POV.

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🖤

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long time, no see ❤️

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via flowsofly (on Instagram)

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One of the most satisfying moments in your life will be those few seconds when you’re out of breath and inches away from someone whose definition of home is your name.

Keen Malasarte, You are my home.

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“It seems like every time I sit down to write about our bodies, I spin us something holy: our moans turned scripture, our mouths flooded with communion wine. I want to take you by the hips and build our gospel. Except, I wonder if I’m afraid to name you without the metaphor: like the honeysuckle holy of you would burn my tongue if I took it in vain. See, you leave sunspots on my vision. Your hands are softer than any altar and twice as sacred. Your mouth keeps me up at night, even when you are two cities over. Even when it’s been days without you in my bed. Even then. See, there is heat. And there is friction. And then there’s us, and we are something else, altogether. Some kind of burning. But you have never been all-consuming. You have never been Almighty. You are a pair of hands I never want to let go of, and maybe that’s its own religion, but maybe it isn’t. Maybe, I can still come to you on hands and knees, and it doesn’t have to be a kind of praying. It could be my mouth and your thighs, and the way you moaning my name splits the quiet. Maybe we don’t have to be a pocket of heaven to be just as beautiful. So, if I become more choir than angel, if you become more tenement than temple, if we stop trying so hard to be so sacred, we might find that heaven was never as gorgeous as we are.”

— SACRILEGE REDUX by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

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Someone being patient with you is one of the softest forms of love

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thinking about when anthony bourdain said “what nicer thing can you do for somebody than make them breakfast?” / and when dean martin and helen o’connell said “how do you like your toast in the morning? i like mine with a hug” / and when honorée fanonne jeffers said “see, stay alive/in the meantime, laugh/a little harder. go on/and gnaw that bone clean” / and when i called her on the phone my mama said “come home and i’ll cook you whatever you want, i just want you home”

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“That’s what a poem wants to do––to become meaningful to a reader. As I tell my students, no one cares about what happened to you. They care about what your poem means to them.”

— Ellen Bass, interviewed by Julie Murphy for The Adroit Journal

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Elegy For My Sadness by Chen Chen

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“LET NOTHING HARBOR IN MY CHEST. MAY I RELEASE IN LOUD & CONTINUE TO CONJURE. MAY I HATE & HURT WITH ALL MY LOVE. MAY I FURY. MAY I BURN. MAY I BURN. MAY YOU SEE IT.”

— Kiki Nicole, from “A Lot To Be Mad About,” published in Recenter Press