a girl in port: Archive

Nov 2nd

390 notes

Nov 1st

547 notes

Nov 1st

“There is a flash, a burst of heat, and my mother looks at my father one last time. My father simply holds on to her hand, pulls himself a little closer to her, and covers her body with his. They explode, burn away, and smolder, because sometimes it just makes sense to hold on like that.” -Kevin Wilson

Nov 1st

Oct 24th

9 tags

“If there is no fog on the day you come home I will build a bonfire So the smoke...”

– Matthea Harvey, from “In Defense of Our Overgrown Garden” (via proustitute)

Sep 23rd

167 notes

“I’m not sentimental—I’m as romantic as you are. The idea, you know, is that the...”

– F. Scott Fitzgerald (via cardamonandcanvases)

Jul 13th

47 notes

“… this is freedom. This is the force of faith. Nobody gets what they want....”

– Jorie Graham, from “Prayer” (via proustitute)

Jun 29th

131 notes

Call it an act of omission, my love.

Night Air by C. Dale Young "If God is Art, then what do we make of Jasper Johns?" One never knows what sort of question a patient will pose, or how exactly one should answer. Outside the window, snow on snow began to answer the ground below with nothing more than foolish questions. We were no different. I asked again: "Professor, have we eased the pain?" Eventually, he’d answer me with:...

Jun 29th

“My editor won’t let any of the characters swear. Which is sometimes difficult...”

– J.K. Rowling (via accioronaldweasley)

Feb 10th

6,425 notes

Ah, been a long time Since I heard you call my...

Feb 8th

Circle

Now are we saying goodbye? I think so but can’t be sure. The last phone call but one Left everything up in the air. When you called last, did you mean What you said when you said you meant To say that this call would be The last if I didn’t call? In fact, I’m not sure at all If you called or I called you back. And did you say “goodbye,” Or I say “good...

Feb 7th

“if I never see you again I will always carry you inside outside on my...”

– Charles Bukowski (via thechocolatebrigade)

Dec 12th

Firm Against the Pattern When I saw Charity dancing alone in the farmhouse kitchen— eyes closed, lips parted, held aloft in one hand half a mango, a gigantic butcher knife clutched in the other—I froze at the screen door as I always do when I come upon someone praying. All night I had been hitting on the daughter of a tiny woman orphaned by Hiroshima. Grandparents had been lost,...

Jul 30th