Choir Of Mice

If we listen with not only our ears, but with our souls and our minds, then we shall discover the truth of the notes that touch us.

“When our breasts arrived
as a kind of currency, we’d tug
our camisoles low, use
our newfangled bodies to haggle
with the ice cream man. The winner
was the girl who received her chocolate cone
for free, who sucked on candy cigarettes
the same way she wore a training bra.
That summer my pockets grew forests
of hand-tied maraschino cherry stems:
tampered evidence that I might one day be worthy
of kissing. In exchange for rides
on the handlebars of their bikes,
we’d let the boys bite
the beads off our candy
necklaces until the chokers
resembled punched out teeth.
From their slobber, blue and violet
stained my throat where the sweetness
had once been, so I suppose,
Your Honor, I was preparing
for him.”

—   

Megan Falley "Beginning in an Ice Cream Truck
and Ending in a Court Room”
(after Kim Addonizio)

(Source: deeplystained, via thepoetryfarm)

“For you I undress down to the sheaths of my nerves.
I remove my jewelry and set it on the nightstand,
I unhook my ribs, spread my lungs flat on a chair.
I dissolve like a remedy in water, in wine.
I spill without staining, and leave without stirring the air.
I do it for love. For love, I disappear.”

—   "For You" by Kim Addonizio (via growing-orbits)

(via thepoetryfarm)

(Source: oraclemag, via altus-gens)

“Do not fall in love with people like me.
I will take you to
museums, and parks, and monuments,
and kiss you in every beautiful
place, so that you can
never go back to them
without tasting me
like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most
beautiful way possible.
And when I leave
you will finally understand,
why storms are named after people.”

—   (via bl-ossomed)

(Source: abimopector, via harmed)


Patti Smith by Robert Mapplethorpe
1973
thetypologist:

Typology of tea.

thetypologist:

Typology of tea.

(Source: razlael)