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— Sylvia Plath

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an homage to lighthouses;

horseshoe crabs dance along the shoreline

thick scarlet stripes intertwine with cream

dark, sharp rocks cut the seafoam like a blade

a light as bright as God guides mariners to haven

at Her peak, an old man in a bright lemon raincoat stares into the surf

every millisecond of every day He waits for the ships to return home

He ponders the abstract concept of the difference between loneliness and being alone

“one is a choice. one is not”

in the distance, a lonely boat capsizes effortlessly

raindrops pelt the surface as moonbeams strike the abyss

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“And the ocean smells like lilacs in late August—how is that. The light there muted (silver) as remembered light.”

— Franz Wright, from “Walking to Martha’s Vineyard,” Walking to Martha’s Vineyard (Knopf, 2003)

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made this with my dads old camcorder

x

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vintage cherub trinket box

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by Gabriela Azel

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Izumi Shikibu, as collected in The Ink Dark Moon (tr. Jane Hirshfield and Mariko Aratani)

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mother of pearl fans

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this album was written for me

selfish love

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they’re all so me

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It’s a hobby

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i love this app because sometimes you think you're the only person who feels a certain way and then you log on to tumblr dot com and see a post that perfectly articulates that emotion and it has 50k notes and you're just like. good to know!