Blue Lights, Joan Didion (via commovente)
Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five (via larmoyante)
This is how I recreate you.
On a bridge near your favorite tree, you become
bones made from sea glass wine bottles and mosaic tiles,
muscle made from dune grass,
skin made from wet leaves after a long winter,
eyelids, the wings of moths.
fingers made from trails of ants that chase me,
toes made from skipping stone peddles,
eyes made from sunflowers,
a mouth and throat, made from a garden hose.
On a bride near your favorite tree, you become
lungs made from paper lanterns,
insides made of paper cranes
veins made from copper wire,
and if I could, I would’ve made your blood from honey
I saved your heart for last,
it becoming a jar of salt water
because every time you told me to find the ocean,
I found it inside of you.
Karen Solie, “Under the Sun” (via larmoyante)