#letters to dead lovers
gnossienne · 1 year
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Emily Dickinson, in a letter to Frances and Louise Norcross (1872)
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comfyymoon · 6 months
platonic dates. platonic dates. platonic dates. let's go to a bookstore together, let's just buy some coffee, let's go eat our favourite food together, let's buy each other flowers, let's write poems for each other, let's write letter to each other, let's go shopping together, let's go on a walk together, let's just go buy groceries together, let's just get some juice and sit on stairs, let's go to the movies, let's go for a hike. let's just be together.
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lostchild02 · 7 days
Let's talk about the love that I feel when I listen to old bollywood songs describing the purity of love, the love that we can see in their eyes, the love that they share in holding hands gently, the love that is there in the secret glances, the love that is there in sharing earphones, the love that is there in slipping the handwritten love letters in the book that you borrowed, the love that is reading books in the library, the love that is in pressing the flowers that someone gave you in your favourite book, the live where you watch the sunsets and moon in slience together, the love which was pure, the love which was above all. And today when I look at what this generation has made out of love just scares me to think that will we ever be able enough to share love like this ?
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t-h-ballard · 3 months
"i love you"
You were not half as sweet on me as I was on you. You did not stay up late at night or count the flowers that bloomed. From the start, I should have known "I love you" meant more to me than it did to you.
- t.h. ballard
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darlingletslove · 9 months
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thelaststarsblog · 4 months
Sometimes you just have to stop and appreciate all the good things in your life. 🦋
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poetryofmuses · 1 year
wanna do it long distance just so he could not be in my space 24/7 because men are downright annoying-
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belleophelia · 10 months
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anne boleyn and thomas wyatt, tarnish by katherine longshore He kisses me with the deep desperation of a drowning man. This kiss is a song of longing. "I love you," I whisper when he kisses my throat. I cannot say it loud enough for him to hear.
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veyrona · 9 months
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"My mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you since, well, before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.”
Alex turner’s love letter to Alexa Chung.
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persephonediary · 10 months
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Emily Dickinson, Letter to Sue
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vaguelywilde · 2 years
how do i make my entire life a love letter to the moon?
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vodkatales · 2 years
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Ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours.
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nymphpens · 1 year
oh to have a lover who writes poems and letters to you
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souldustinverse · 1 month
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Once I'm gone, will you do this for me? 
Will you bury me under our giant ash tree
where my bones can turn to dust, 
my agape heart remain with you
and my soul be set free? Trust me! 
like dandelions in a typhoon,
Paradoxically, I'll plant new seeds;
carry our love up 'til the moon, 
and find a new place for us to meet
where soon our reunited souls will eternally bloom. 
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divyachamaria · 1 year
Somebody Great - Jenny's Letter to Nate
Do you think I can have one more kiss?
I’ll find closure on your lips and then I’ll go.
Maybe, also one more breakfast, one more lunch and one more dinner.
I’ll be full and happy and we can part.
But in between meals, maybe we can lie in bed one more time.
One more prolonged moment where time suspends indefinitely as I rest my head on your chest.
My hope is if we add up the one mores it will equal a lifetime
and I never have to get to the part where I have to let you go.
But that’s not real, is it?
There are no more, one mores.
I met you when everything was new and exciting and the possibilities of the world seemed endless.
And they still are, for you, for me, but not for us.
Somewhere between then and now, here and there, I guess we didn’t just grow apart, we grew up.
When something breaks and the pieces are big enough, you can fix it.
I guess sometimes things don’t break, they shatter, but when you let the light in, shattered glass will glitter.
And in those moments, when the pieces catch the sun, I’ll remember just how beautiful it was. Just how beautiful it will always be, because it was us, and we are magic, forever.
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