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i love sitting in my room…..alone….a girl in her cave….scheming and plotting and drinking tea

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floral studies: x-ray of bearded iris, dr. dain tasker

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“I tell you, it is a Suffering, to have a sea - no care how Blue - between your Soul, and you.”

— Emily Dickinson, from a letter to Samuel Bowles featured in The Letters of Emily Dickinson (via soracities)

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sleep is the first house

(excerpt) Audre Lorde, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name

Ferdinand Hodler, "Night" (detail) // Pierre Jahan, Nu Plain-chant (1947)

(excerpt) Eileen Myles, "Universal Cycle", The Importance of Being Iceland

Sara Stout, "Paris Bed" // Alex Venezia

(excerpt) Adrienne Rich, Twenty One Love Poems ("Poem XII")

Mark English, "Couple" (1933) // Kenney Mencher, "A Married Couple"

(excerpt) Walt Whitman, "When I Heard at the Close of Day"

Łukasz Stokłosa, "Untitled" (2014) // Matt Lambert for Dazed

(excerpt) Jeanette Wintersion, "Disappearance I", The World and Other Places

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no one appreciates that i could be a million times worse

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Octavio Paz, The Collected Poems, 1957-1987

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Clarice Lispector, from “A Breath of Life”, published posthumously in Brazil in the late 1970s

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May Sarton, The Poetry of May Sarton

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“[...] even at the moments when I live with the greatest intensity I still have the taste of nothingness in my mouth.”

—Simone de Beauvoir quoting her friend Zaza’s letter in Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter [tr. James Kirkup]

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Ada Limón, "The Quiet Machine"

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Franz Wright, from God's Silence; "Progress"

transcription below cut

Nobody has called for some time. (I was always the death of the party.) In a way that leaves a scar, I no longer wish to love. (Come a hairbreadth closer to this shining apparition and be consumed in flame.) I'm still alone with all the world's beauty and cruelty. And I recall everything, everything's here— what is time? When is the present? I'm still here alone in the night hours with everyone. And everything that once was infinitely far and unsayable is now unsayable and right here in the room.

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Ono no Komachi & Izumi Shikibu, tr. by Jane Hirshfield & Mariko Aratani, The Ink Dark Moon: Love Poems by Ono no Komachi and Izumi Shikibu, Women of the Ancient Court of Japan

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“I’m afraid of a lot of things, but mostly, most sincerely, I am afraid of being completely unraveled by you, and you finding nothing you want in here.”

— L.M. Dorsey, She Is Made of Chalk