19th
(Source: ebsl)
1937 La femme qui pleure avec mouchoir III | Pablo Picasso
(Source: artloverrr, via xpsychichearts)
Sara always had fires in her
she was always putting out.
Fire fire fire.
Out out out.
She did this for years
until she got tired
tired of fires and tired
of putting out fires
and she let them
burn her from inside
until she had holes
all in her and when she
would pet animals
or…
(via theairtightgarage)
He’s Underlined My Favorite Sonnet!
Sonnet 4
Ah when you drift hover before you kiss
More my mouth yours now, lips grow more to mine
Teeth click, suddenly your tongue like a mulled wine
Slides fire, —- I wonder what the point of life is.
Do, down this night when I adore you, Lise,
So I forsake the blest assistant shine
Of deep-laid maps I made for summits, swine-
enchanted lover, loafing in the abyss?
Loaf hardly, while my nerves dance, while the gale
moans like your hair down here. But I lie still,
Strengthless and smiling under a maenad rule.
Whose limbs worked once, whose imagination’s grail
Many or some would nourish, must now I fill
My strength with desire, my cup with your tongue,
no more Melpomene’s, but Erato’s fool? . .
JOHN BERRYMAN