perfect weirdness
let things be as they are
perfect weirdness
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"

Do not write poems
about my lips.
Two soft slivers of peaches
created for you
and you alone
to kiss.
Omit the fact that they are
fire-blown
and spit bullets.

Do not write poems
about my hips.
Thick flesh
devours you.
Please.
They break for sons,
bend for daughters,
I hold a universe of my own
between them.

Do not write poems
about my hands.
Do not tell fools
they were molded
perfectly
to fit into yours.
You will bend your fingers
to interlace with my
unmoving mountains.

Do not write poems
about me,
do not inspire myths
to defend my honor
or inspire my femininity.

I am more
than your simple
uninspired
words.

"
Michelle K., Do Not Write Poems… (via michellekpoems)
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fuckreiva:

i’ve always wanted someone to take to the city at night like this
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ever-pure:

LOOK AT THAT ECONOMY OF BRUSHSTROKE
YOU CAN SEE EVERY STROKE S/HE TOOK NOT ONE THING IS BLENDED
AND YOU CAN TELL EXACTLY WHAT THE SUBJECT IS AND WHAT THE SUBJECT IS DOING
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"I wonder
who’s arms would I run and fall into
if I were drunk
in a room with everyone
I have ever loved"
I saw a comment underneath this once, reading “furthermore, i wonder who would still catch me” (via meggordon)
Wow (via pehnumbra)
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sexcake:

troyxleonardo:

With just a chill head bop Jordin still manages to have more rhythm than the three tragedies next to her

LORDE WHAT R U DOING 
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