i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
                 i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
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 soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
Jul 1, 2024
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âď¸
because of the last two stanzasâŚ.
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,Â
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,Â
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i andÂ
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equalsÂ
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
Jul 1, 2024
â
you know,
all i like to write about is love.Â
writing is easier when itâs about your own personal experiences of grief, of pain
but love is the beautiful dove of the twoÂ
released at a funeral, released at a wedding.
,
because the definition is different for everybody.
â
the trees rustle again tonight, and the wind gently taps on the windowpane, begging again to be let in
and my thoughts race farther and faster in the night than a pure-bred, hot-blooded racehorse, bucking wild for the first time
my mind buzzes, stricken like a gong, reverberating in the quietness of tonight
as i drag myself closer to you,
you reach out for me, an unspoken, gentle and devout prayer, asking for me in the unspeakable words conveyed in a whisper through actions
â
i promised you a fantastical world of your own, where you are safe, through my own creation.
i have created for you in the heart of my own somewhere for me to love you,Â
fully and infinitely with all of myself.
if this is not where you are safe, then there is nothing else.
âÂ
word by word and sentence by sentence
i create dreams i would never tell anybody
not even under the skies of a cloudless night.
when i sleep, i tuck my hopes and sadness under my pillow
and hope a fairy will kidnap it and place in that spot
something i should need more.
but night after night, my dreams just macerate in the container of my heart.
soon, i will drink them like an elixir of truth
and what i am afraid of will come
3d ago
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
Mar 13, 2025
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as we all (pi fyi users) know, being into shit is cool.
iâve been thinking about how in the early days of facebook rather than liking pages you would âbecome a fanâ of them and i just love that verbage. so sweet and precious
Feb 23, 2024
đ
i said that so smoothly and confidently and wasnât weird at all
Mar 16, 2025
đś
itâs nice to have a forced walk in the morning before work and itâs not really of shame if youâre in love
Apr 11, 2025