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Beauties !
(via reginadubin)
For as long as the stars do not seem to align in an orderly manner, as long as such lost light sources make their way into the spinning crevices of her lungs, she will continue to ask herself: How does one make a habitation of it? What is the relationship between a woman’s fragments and her desire/ for wholeness?
-Jennifer S. Cheng from her book “Moon.”
I ran and I ran through the 2 a.m. streets.
It was my way of breaking free. I was anything but history.
I was the wind.— Joy Harjo, from “Running,” published in The New Yorker
(Source: newyorker.com, via freethepoets)
"Green was the silence, wet was the light,- Pablo Neruda
the month of June trembled like a butterfly."
(via joyfrequencies)
(Source: prinsomnia, via oceanvuong)