okay but do you want to lay under a willow tree with me and your head can be in my lap or the other way around and we read to each other yes or no

once you leave, you can never come home. even if it is the place you can feel your childhood breathing right beneath, one simple truth remains—either the place is no longer the same or you are no longer the same.

when margaret atwood wrote "if I love you / is that a fact or a weapon?" & "i touch you, i am created in you somewhere as a complex filament of light" & "you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth."

you kept me like a secret but i kept you like an oath

Oh to go to the museum with someone who loves art as much as you do.

i'm still a believer, but i don't know why, i've never been a natural, all i do is try, try, try