My mind is a palace With many rooms, Hallways lead to stairwells Where art doth bloom. My lungs are a choir loft Singing in the dawn, My spine is a pillar That stands when I'm gone. My heart is a temple Where incense burns slow, My guts are angry assholes Lined up in a row. #poem

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Me just throwing it down the drafts drain.

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Breathing dreams like air... F. Scott Fitzgerald ♡ Painting ny Ariadna Arnes, 'Breathe You In My Dreams' youtu.be/1nEnenji0PI?...

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Heraclitus: Fragment 89 ὁ Ἡράκλειτός φησι τοῖς ἐγρηγορόσιν ἕνα καὶ κοινὸν κόσμον εἶναι τῶν δὲ κοιμωμένων ἕκαστον εἰς ἴδιον ἀποστρέφεσθαι The waking have one common world, but the sleeping turn aside each into a world of his own. (Translation: John Burnet) Caspar David Friedrich 'Der einsame Baum'

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vivid presence rules despotic over pale shadows of past & future Sylvia Plath

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