if I’m not sitting in pretty lingerie with a glass of champagne in a foreign place in the next 5 years I’ve failed
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“Girl, you’ve got grit under your nails That could bring a grown man to his knees. That unforgiving powder keg in your chest Has been lighting up like midday in July And you are not afraid of bursting. This is how you kept standing. This is how you were strong enough, To dig the fear out of your chest And brave enough to let it back in. With every dark thought you’ve ever had, In a row on your bedside table: You kiss each one goodnight, And again every morning. Years back, you stopped trying to file down The sharper sides of you. Because you are not a history With all the bad parts burned out, You are a monument Pulled up from the belly of the sea. Teeth like a leviathan, You open your maw and let the water in. And every wave that crashed against you Every hand print left seared on your thighs, You gave it a name and a goodbye, And stretched up toward the sunlight. If people could see the monsters And the flowers In the framework of you, They would fall to their knees. They would kiss your feet. Count your name as holy—love you like gospel. You’ve been walking through fire Since they first put you on your feet, And you are not afraid to blister Any more than you are afraid to cry. And every mouth who has been scared to love you, Never knew exactly why.”
— Delicate Things, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)
“Gimme a girl that’s beautiful, without a trace of makeup on, barefoot in the kitchen, singing her favorite song.”
— Joe Nichols
“Come quickly, I am drinking the stars!”
— Dom Pérignon after inventing champagne
suddenly I am a child again
running around trying to
grab the sound of your voice
before the wind steals it
“I crave a minute in your arms, and if only a minute is available, I would dig my teeth and nails in it.”
— Pluto
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
—
Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

