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Lady, i will touch you with my mind. Touch you and touch and touch until you give me suddenly a smile,shyly obscene -E.E.Cummings • Instagram.com/mahsan_ahmadpour • t.me/mahsan_ahmadpour
Work song playing on a car speaker during rain
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Cherry wine playing from a distant church in a forest
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When my life was nothing other than the ticking of the clock
I realized that I must love
That I must madly love
Forugh Farrokhzad, from “Window” featured in Sin: Selected Poems of Forugh Farrokhzad
“I rolled in the ash of the fire just to be touched and dirtied by something.”
— Vicki Feaver, from “Judith” in Girl in Red and Other Poems of V. F. (2003);
“Stay longer in me, take roots.”
— Vera Pavlova (Russian, born 1963), from “If There Is Something To Desire” “
“It’s true, I have been blooming. Desolately.”
— Anna de Noailles, tr. by Jethro Bithell, from “A Heart Made Of Moss,” in Poems
We often want it so badly that we ruin it before it begins. Overthinking. Fantasizing. Imagining. Expecting. Worrying. Doubting. Just let it naturally evolve.
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We want someone that will drag us through the mud and remind us that we are not very worthy. Someone that will love us only after countless cajoles and endless humiliation. Someone that will put us in our damp place. Someone that will finally confirm to us what we've always felt but never thought to admit: that we are not enough
Although we might not like to think so, we are sometimes more comfortable with unreciprocated love because it validates the underlying belief that we are not good enough.
-John Sivebukola
ocean vuong, on earth we’re briefly gorgeous
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Letters to Vera by Vladimir Nabokov
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In the woods somewhere from an abandoned castle in a magic forest
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Why can't we not to be sober?
Why can't we drink forever?
I wanna view the signals that control your brain
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Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) dir. Michel Gondry
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Laziness Does Not Exist , Devon Price
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“I might tell James or I might not. I start to lose track of what I’ve shared with him and what I’ve kept to myself. I find myself starting to talk about the sounds in the night, an inconsistency in what the woman at the checkout told me, the new bruise on my hip that’s already starting to fade, and then I stop myself. Did I tell him about this already? If not, I worry he’ll think I’ve been keeping secrets. And then, because I don’t want to keep secrets, I keep more secrets.”
— Jac Jemc, The Grip of It
Susan sontag - “As consciousnesses is harnessed to flesh”
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With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean
She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene
"Kiss with a fist" by Florence and Machine would work well in this set
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