I don’t care who the fuck you are, or what you’re doing. You can take 3 seconds to reblog this.

I don’t care who the fuck you are, or what you’re doing. You can take 3 seconds to reblog this.

(Source: hotbandimaginesandsmut)

up, on the way home..

"I don’t feel like I slept at all", I remarked when you and I woke
I got up right after the sun
Had disregarded the closed blinds
That only kind of barred it from your skin
And by its effort, the rising
Turned your body
The hue of first mornings
I felt all of it
Laying next to you

And I didn’t sleep, to be honest
Because I spent to the whole night
Reading how you had written yourself
Into my inhale
With my lips pressed to your back
And my breath
Calling your spine from its hiding place

I spent the few hours
Trying to memorize the hum
Of your soft palms
In the dark of the beginning of day
I laid there with you
Thinking of a way
To kiss the floor plan of your finger prints up from their place
So my mouth would become a map of the worlds at the end of your wrists

I spent the changing sky
On the mountain side of your frame
Praying to find the most appropriate love

Let’s just say
Being so close to you
Caught a jazz ballet from out of my bones
And I spent a lot of the night
Keeping myself from singing on your body
And by singing,
I mean

I’m being immature
But while I’m talking about this

You may want to stop letting me kiss you so much
& we’ll leave that there

But this isn’t about sex
It never is
No conventions
No rules
No prides

It’s more a matter of
You should keep your collarbone
To yourself
Before I reprise the Sistine Chapel ceiling
On it with my tongue

More immaturity

No, but it’s about memory
And how you’ll never forget the way someone’s skin
Felt next to yours

The air about our whole selves together
Tasted like the closing of miles,
Like undoing the distance,
Like shifts of a clock
When not spent near you
Start to seem more wasted,

Like “when you take from me, I feel given to”

And how you’re so beautiful sometimes it confuses me
If you read that that way I may have written it,
It’s kind of hilarious

And yes, of course if things were different
They’d be different
But I’m going to have to say a little more than that

Or maybe I won’t
The alarm is going off

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen."

If I ever have a girlfriend, she’s gotta paint.

She’s gotta love nachos and Prince and whiskey.

& be beautiful not just because she is beautiful, but just because she is at all..

"When you love a person, your blood spells their name in its lightening marathon over your bones - making them glow from under your skin to the very letter - so that each kiss feels like stars getting trapped in your chest."

- Yene K.

needin’ a cute human that likes to be held for operation popsicles & Netflix..

"I don’t actually want to sleep. I just want to write about you."

I care about entirely too much and not enough at the same time.

Justice. And when you say justice, it doesn’t have to be war. Justice could just be clearing a path for people to dream properly.