for you are

Be humble for you are made of earth, be noble for you are made of stars. 

a Serbian proverb

I am these images

"After a weekend of always dreams, this moment is so calming. The cooled warmth in the breath of morning that takes me places—childhood summers, of infinite dusks set across the barbecue, the zinc smiles, the stinging eyes, the sky swam green in first dragonflies, the swimming pool; the tomato sauce dribbling through a sausage in bread, dribbling through the night steam, burning shivering hands, drowned towels clinging to bloodied scrapes, some song clumsy in my static."

Ian William L.

several years, cannibalism

Glassy way, of skeleton eyes and hands and hearts, the subservient would be dead, of time and signals riddled from every mud, and swamp of skin, beckons a trap, let beneath their dayed march, and only serve / I stand inside this box, a flickering light, switch of, madness and simple, in night know no timelines. But you were a key, a cord, and selling liars made eyes—you come to know yourself, in bloating me, to grow the tree, that eats and eats, and withers as a forest, that grows out the murder to skies, that fears the fall / Sometimes when I stare at walls, I expect to find myself staring, slowly there, and it's in these moments what lose control, lose a little more to once mirrors. Something you can't wish back, something that wants be found the night: the world you want, to have some ghosts / But change is, snowmen turned to strangers, the path of secret, metal sky, friends cast from the typeset / But no beauty bore, only an alchemic safety, of bodies constant and contained, once Midas lost his mind / Hanging if it were that rope, then ends could lead to hands, what helps, not a gunman, the fate of graves, if only the dead bird could show its song / All that comes is sleep: he makes for a wounded flight / Please keep, gladiator, good friend / The weight of balance is, to strike then and collapse, but or slowly, you know me like paths, my broken puppet bones—It's time! So stage show precisely, call malice from hope, a sword that does not miss, boxes of your breathing, I will find / He makes for a silent walk, but on a night of water I, went under, and saw—your—break again, the tide to a lung, the moon she wrote down, quickly to courage / We are ant eaters, we are catalysts—the knowledge ends and ends, and brings the light to her / Rain came blue again, lets us steam to eyes: the seasons change, and they are the first pieces thrown / Shuffling hair, and, creases, waiting: You cannot hope your life away! he folds that under the others, dusting his feet off, and listens for:

the fur

Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place. 

Iain S. Thomas

hearts like ours

let the night crash, let the night glow.

wonderlights

[via faith is torment]

macro fear maker (captura)

All my memories lance, come bee sting: spitting warm cider into stony hands, and holiday muscle, a cigarette dusk. That cold circus of dizzy suns, cloud of fists, under awesome flight the newspaper greens. In one summering bell, the warm fusillade, burnt our eyes on the insides.

yourbestchanceliesoutsideyourhead

You are beautiful. You are kind. You are worthy of love. And you always have been.

Nora Logue

pond

When you have swam in the sea
a lake will no longer do;
everyone else has been a pond
but the ocean was always you. 

Tyler Knott Gregson

two simple little

Melted chocolate hearts dribbling all, fingertips tracing t.v. static. Flowers roar, in burst and bloom. Foam in my mouth, and in my hair, cold jets to clean a car. Pavement shadows chase the cat, warm trees watching, the rocket summer, of our hummingbird days.

the greatest risk

You—vulnerable, honest, and present—are a gift to those around you. 

Roxanne Wieman

a letter from fred