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A wreath of violets lain where my brain used to be.

Olena Kalytiak Davis, from may be you are like me: scared and awake

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In the Middle of This Phrase …, Octavio Paz

[ID: The night / is a disjointed murmur, / a body / self-embraced, tearing itself apart.]

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Vivienne Westwood Spring/Summer 1994.

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Salve Regina in Notre-Dame, Paris The Salve Regina sung by the choir, clergy and congregation after Mass at the cathedral of Notre-Dame in Paris, France.

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Absences répétées (Guy Gilles, 1972)

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And then I knew I was not yet ready to bear on my back the great burden of my unnaturalness.

Angela Carter, Nights At The Circus (via bluebeardsbride)

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Tulle lace opera gloves by Gucci | Photo Tim Elkaïm

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부산행, 2016

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ADoW 1x03

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#thinking about how elsa's beauty was mythologised for the duration of her girlhood  .. #(out of wanton voyeurism  &  rumour for its sake;  of course she has never attended court. #a method of digesting her palpable absence:  a maid so beautiful and frail and fair.) #swelling in momentum post-coronation  ..  for those same reasons.  abject..  responsive fetishisation;  retaliating against her.. #(..)  being so unavailable;  so reflexively taciturn  &  awkward. #a stake in the virgin queen;  arnadalr's anointed gloriana. #i came across a post regarding homer's use of the passive voice as helen of troy;  i'm going to appropriate the notion here. #'Έλσα δ᾽ἐκλήθην.'   i am /called/ elsa;  the perception is not mine. #by extension:  then i am /called/ 'snødronninga';  witch;  accursed;  marena. #&  i think of helen's dog-face and trial-by-history. #which is to imply that the mythos gains an edge as she becomes Othered;  indigestible.

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adriana cloud, “bento body” / richard siken, “snow and dirty rain”

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snow time in my homtown

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                                                   In a long undergrowth of wanting I creep        at night the sea is a dark room I called and called      these white corridors are not free from longing         Dear postman       Dear night-time, dear dark mouth hovering over me        Dear knee bones dear palms, dear faithful body       I have wants

— Emily Berry, from “Letters to Husband,” Penguin Modern Poets 1: If I’m Scared We Can’t Win

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Ode, Frank O’Hara