you interested?

Girl with the black beret,
Every time I break open a fortune cookie, I hope that there will be something on that little strip of paper so profound that it convinces me to finally tell you that I love you.

Sheepish Mountain Goat

They say a text is just a text,
but my heart's about to explode in my chest.

Dear A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y or Z,
You stole my heart, I love you too.
From A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y or Z.

T,
I was so distracted thinking about you this morning that I accidentally brushed my teeth with face wash.  It was worth it.
— K

boy,
i was thinking this summer that maybe we could fall in love. you interested?
— girl

All of these are from the cutest site I've found in a long time: letterstocrushes.com
Visit it to renew your faith in love and remember that people are actually capable of these emotions
I promise you'll come away with a smile
What do you wish you could tell the person you care(d) for?

chez moi

I see my house clearly in my mind.
The weathered furniture rescued from flea markets, given love and a new coat of paint
Mirrors and shelves and shelves and shelves of books, bits of driftwood and old pictures- bottles found and filled with the tiniest shards of smooth sea glass
Clocks and papers and shells and dried flowers in vases- a perfume that smells like home and the salt air
And white curtains that catch the wind and dance for joy of movement
And my room: with the window and the desk and the chair so certain, I know already I know. The bright light and the fall of the pen and the remains of breakfast in the corner. Both clutter and space and full, soft white light. And the birds call outside my open window, my beautiful paint-peeling window.
My house visits me in waking dreams- does yours?

my lighthouse keeper

We tried to run again, but sleep got wise to our tricks and she caught up with us this time.
Still, it was without resent that we went to her arms, slightly abashed, like children caught hiding from their bath.
Now in the grey morning she gentles us with a warm breeze and muted skies
I think the world wants me to be in love- the boy with waves in his eyes and summer in his curls tastes of blueberries and lighthouse floors, letters tucked away to be read generations from now and rocking chairs with stories in the sanded grain.

The leaves are coming back you know. A greener green than before. Winter was worth the wait.

(photos are both mine and from here)

flyaway

This could be the beginning of the end:

If we try to stay back we'll turn to stone, you've seen the garden of twisted figures standing like warnings. You know we can't stay here, and that makes the days we have left even sweeter.

Surely this must be only the end of the beginning, there is so much more left for us

 

skin like porcelain

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
 

We tumbled home in the morning bloody and bruised but patched up best we could
and we smiled still. These are the smiles of tired days. These are the smiles of sandy hair sandy eyes sandy mind. These are what we have left over when we have lived everything else.
We watched the moon set and then flipped over and watched the sun rise on our other side.
This is what is left when you have lived even the memories.

(poem by e.e. cummings)

(photos from here)