eyes closed

(feverish dreams)

eyes open

(things aren’t as they seem)

waking up to

the honey-colored sun 

rays filtering through the blinds.

coruscating puddles

a splash

a foot

a toe

poked into the tip

with ripples following through

akin to the loss of balance

of dominoes

"I want to rip off your logic and make passionate sense to you. I want to ride in the swing of your hips. My fingers will dig in you like quotation marks, blazing your limbs into parts of speech."
– Jeffrey McDaniel (via clavicola)
"You fit the world in your mouth and I’m jealous of all the cobweb space. I scour the neighborhood picking up your lost hairpins, smell last night in your hair. It’s a good thing, you never forgetting my waist. Maybe I’m in love or maybe I’m not in love or maybe I’ve tasted love before and haven’t brushed my teeth in a while, but you look so good in that dress I want to bake you a pie. In one of these sentences I say something important. This is what I’m going to do: touch your hips with my tongue, build you a nest out of pillowcases. We are always falling into the softness of photosynthesis. The most important part of last night is making it happen again. I was never good at math but I’m adding up the miles to your hips. Come over, I want to sober up inside you."
– “I Will Take My Pants Off While You Videotape the Moon,” Gregory Sherl (via clavicola)