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The low roar of my engine and faint sounds of songs familiar, the few minutes of white noise before my day truly begins. A moment so empty, it almost feels plain. Those last few breaths of cold dry air leading to my favourite moments in life. She makes her way with a skip in her step and hands occupied. A day of lonesome leading to an evening of absolute delight. The door creaks open and a gust of warm air permeates throughout the car. She’s been waiting for this moment too. Suddenly my senses are intrigued in ways unimaginable, the smell of coffee we’ve both gotten so sick of, her gorgeous smile, the song she sings which is that of the most exotic finches. The car, no longer lonely, nor quiet, is filled with cries of laughter and love. The song expelling throughout the car means so much more, the roar of the engine relative to the rising beat of my heart. The way my eyes gaze at her while she settles in. The warmth of the sun now beaming through heavens of winter clouds. The future is in our hands, together. So where shall we go, what shall we do.

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I guess sometimes I get lost learning how to love like I used to.

I get so lost that I stop focusing on the moment and start focusing on the future. But I only now realize that the moment is the most important part of it all. It’s what builds our future, it’s what will part the clouds so that our love can shine once more. I had it wrong from the beginning, it’s not about the waiting for it to happen. It’s about it happening then and there. I only have so long on the planet with you my love, I can’t waste these moments because when they’re gone nothing will fix the void in my soul for destroying them like this.

Today I stop,

I stop destroying each day after the next, and I start showing you the same love that gave me the heart which I call home.

S

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Her eyes howl of blue moons

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Honeypot

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ember

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ɘubiƨɘɿ bɘɿ

There’s a sort of rhythm to it

As if love expels from your lips to mine

a kiss so soft I melt into you like a cool bed under a sun-struck window

Her kiss, gentle as it may be, but so surreal

Her warmth swallows me whole

Fishes me from where I lay like a fishhook through my collar

And as I slowly ascend through clouds of white and sky’s of blue, I fall back to earth, with the subtle taste of your red lipstick residue

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via the design files.

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Vicente Romero Redondo (Spanish, b. 1956)

Zhong–Yang Huang (Chinese, b. 1949)

Ludovic Alleaume (French, 1859–1941)  

Zhong–Yang Huang (Chinese, b. 1949)

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Six@21

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Gustave Caillebotte - Rooftops in the Snow (1878).

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Iceland Living

© Rafael Pinho / Bjarni Kristinson

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the world is spinning faster and I'm here seated, writing.

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My greatest vanquisher

The core of my fear

It manifests within me

A Norwegian Coastline (details), 1873, by Carl Frederik Sørensen (Danish, 1818-1879)

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My pillow knows more about me than my parents

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Newport, Rhode Island | GarettPhotography

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