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I want to be Tilly and the Wall when I grow up

*13
smilesandpretenses:

In the end these things matter most: How well did you love?  How fully did you live?  How deeply did you let go?~ Siddhartha Guatama

smilesandpretenses:

In the end these things matter most:

How well did you love?  How fully did you live?  How deeply did you let go?

~ Siddhartha Guatama

*21

(Source: lucid-existence)

*13

(Source: onlywhenidream)

*59

(Source: dreamcoasting)

(Source: we-fear-unknown, via mia-mouse)

High and Bright and Fine and Ice

BY DARCIE DENNIGAN

When the motorboat man asked me to love him
I whispered precipice
the word for the no-more-boyfriend feeling
because precipice contains ice (practically twice)
because I wanted teetering—
 
What? he said
Yes
His ears from the engines—so hard of hearing—his hands always
  so hot
 
 
Mid our first winter—I’d clung so long to the dock
he had to crowbar my fingers off
 
Each digit cracked so cleanly
Would you say they break like icicles? I asked sweetly
 
 
I knew I was nothing! But if I could sustain one song—
I is, I is, I is I is I is
I could be: ice
 
 
Sex on the bathroom’s cold marble counter was best
I whispered statuette, monument
 
What? he, sculpting my legs, said
 
Yes
 
The child? I named her Cecily
It sounded like iced lily
 
 
For pure, I said pristine
At the ocean, I said brine
 
Isle for vacation; for flowers, edelweiss
But when I said (only of late, late!) I choose ice
Brittle pearls broke behind my syllables
 
Did he hear me?
Again, twice, thrice:
 
For my love
we would need to live
in a great pyramid
We would need to sleep
beneath the continental shelf
with Antarctic crust blanketing us
The only driveway to any kind of house
is an iceberg-ridden Northwest Passage
When I whispered universe
you were to translate it as
one bright line
one bright rime

"Number Line"

127

When we first met

standing as a pair 

on the school concrete 

waiting for afternoon buses

I was in a pair

of green boots, 

the kind men who work on electrical wire wear, 

to prevent electrocution. 

Rubber insulation sometimes proves faulty.

We had biology together, 

our conductors defying the laws of physics. 

125

When we first kissed, 

sitting as a pair

in your new used-Civic,

I discovered the handle was broken.  

I tasted your lips and they tasted like Sprite.

Like the movies we watched and secretly wanted to fall into

to fall in love like

and when I tried to escape,

wiggling a broken plastic, 

dangling on metal wire,  

attempting to cover shame and elation 

I couldn’t leave. 

It was a foreshadow 

of chains 

I told myself I’d never create

118

When we said I love you

our bare thighs intwined 

on soft summer grass

growing easily into one another

fully

throwing ourself into 

an existence, a reality 

we desired so intensely 

that this never felt like 

choice 

at all

112

When we spoke in closets

months later

separated 

a dissonance created by 

time and space and my 

disappearing shape 

I posited a pause button 

oblivious to your movement 

my bones worn too thin 

to follow suit 

91

I sit 

in this car 

with the broken handle 

and my broken heart 

and broken body

sitting alone with my tiny frame

where there was no room for a 

heart big enough to 

hold you 

I had created 

in a silence that was also 

my own

—-

I lie with another 

the ticking of the same clock 

whose cadence once led 

our breaths

I feel his breathing 

present 

in the absence of yours. 

We lead parallel lives

no longer congruent in similitude 

of shapes

but the same only in a certainty that 

we will never again 

intersect 

(via osendentelle)