Full woman, fleshly apple, hot moon,
thick smell of seaweed, crushed mud and light,
what obscure brilliance opens between your columns?
What ancient night does a man touch with his senses?

Loving is a journey with water and with stars,
with smothered air and abrupt storms of flour:
loving is a clash of lightening bolts
and two bodies defeated by a single drop of honey.

Kiss by kiss I move across your small infinity,
your borders, your rivers, your tiny villages,
and the genital fire transformed into delight

runs through the narrow pathways of the blood
until it plunges down, like a dark carnation,
until it is and is no more than a flash in the night.


written by Pablo Neruda, from “Love Sonnet XII,” in One Hundred Love Sonnets (1960)

(Source: apoetreflects, via uv-ray)

Sleep tries to seduce me by promising a more reasonable tomorrow.
written by Elizabeth Smart, By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept

(Source: ecouter-bien, via lucidisms)

chamanka:

ricardofernandesrf: “I love capturing a person who is so completly awestruck by the band they love, isolating their experience by showing only the emotion in their face” Ryan McGinley on i-D  pre-spring 2012
A bad bitch never hates on another bad bitch. If you see a bad bitch and you know you’re a bad bitch, why hate? Send her a Chanel bag.
written by Foxy Brown 

(Source: 20daysofjune, via arabellesicardi)

japanesemodel:

Chiharu Okunugi and Sayo by Sylvie Malfray for Voguegirl Japan

photographed by Laurence Ellis for Husk SS13.
oldpainting:

Paul Gustav Fischer - Beach Scene with Bathing Women by Gandalf’s Gallery on Flickr.
Via Flickr: [Bruun Rasmussen - Oil on canvas, 23.6 x 35.4 cm]
jesuisperdu:

sanya kantarovsky
acehotel:

Running through The Louvre, from Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Dreamers. 
Today the filmmaker turns 74. And to this day The Louvre forbids running.