“It seems like every time I sit down to write about our bodies,
I spin us something holy: our moans turned scripture,
our mouths flooded with communion wine.
I want to take you by the hips and build our gospel. Except, I wonder if I’m afraid to name you
without the metaphor: like the honeysuckle holy of you
would burn my tongue if I took it in vain. See,
you leave sunspots on my vision. Your hands are softer than any altar and twice as sacred.
Your mouth keeps me up at night,
even when you are two cities over. Even
when it’s been days without you in my bed. Even then.
See, there is heat. And there is friction. And then there’s us, and we are something else, altogether. Some kind of burning. But you have never been
all-consuming. You have never been Almighty.
You are a pair of hands I never want to let go of,
and maybe that’s its own religion, but maybe it isn’t.
Maybe, I can still come to you on hands and knees,
and it doesn’t have to be a kind of praying. It could be
my mouth and your thighs, and the way you moaning my name
splits the quiet.
Maybe we don’t have to be a pocket of heaven to be
just as beautiful. So, if I become more choir than angel,
if you become more tenement than temple,
if we stop trying so hard to be so sacred,
we might find that heaven was never as gorgeous
as we are.”
“Girls want a Superman, but they walk past a Clark Kent every day”
You fuckin CLOWNS think you’re a CLARK KENT? Not on my fuckin watch. You dumb, headass motherfuckers are barely a Guy Gardner and you think you’re a CLARK KENT? The amount of disrespect is unreal.
Listen here, wannabes: My boi Clark is 240 lbs of PURE KANSAS BEEF trained from a young age by Ma Kent to Love and Respect women as the Intelligent, Independent beings they are. He is shy rambling about tractors and casually moving the copy machine when my pen falls behind it and he would NEVER demand I be sexually or romantically interested just because he’s nice.
do you ever get so annoyed at everything that you start to get pissed off at even little things like a spoon clinking against a bowl or sounds of people talking
I think it’s called sensory overload. It’s really common in people with anxiety
it can also be a result of sleep deprivation, stress, or ever dehydration !!
listen, when i go to open my mouth & what comes out is 12 degrees of seperation from what the original topic was, u need to connect the dots bitch. think fast. i’m not gonna hold ur hand but we’re leaving now and visiting every topic along the line. wave it goodbye, don’t get hung up on it
Anonymous
a random collection of art, beauty, love, wisdom and robots... something like that.