Cou Cou Baby
When I kissed her lips,
I counted five syllables
before I moved down
and kissed her neck for seven.
I would have kissed her haiku,
but she took my tanka in her hand
and wrote a different poem.

And only after
did I finally finish
the kissing haiku.
Peregrine (via youreyesblazeout)
There is no sovereign music for our desire.
Rimbaud (via uutpoetry)

x-changes:

even in your silence
volumes of poetry
resonate from your
unspoken words…

—x-changes

x-changes:

drink my tears
feel my colors

your tongue will
taste of sea

green and gold
exposing my core

plead for eternity

—x-changes/so-realism

Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly
Sylvia Plath, “Poppies in October,” from Ariel: The Restored Edition (via lifeinpoetry)
celiabasto:

100% ART

celiabasto:

100% ART

rulingthumb:

Imprisoning The Body By Natalie de Segonzac

rulingthumb:

Imprisoning The Body By Natalie de Segonzac