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I miss the way you hold yourself I miss the sense of wonder inside https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9_SrhGkbCU&list=RDP9_SrhGkbCU&start_radio=1
A letter to my Ghost
To you,
to the one who reads these notes and to whom they are intended, it is without pretense I now write to you,
Because there is a need.
In these conceits which we have spoken over the years I have never lost in you my greatest muse. However common, or cheap the phrase has become for jaded cynics like ourselves, thats what the ghost of you is to me, and has been over the years. The ghost that has attended me. My Best friend. A flame so uncommon, and dear to what my soul sings in this life, that I have held onto what is ultimately merely the memory of you because it was the only thing that was mine and no one elses for so long. These mem
Queen of Spades
I will not show you how deep the bitter lines of my heart run after these roads I put behind me, I will not map the shadow of my grief by the mile, or the wake of its destruction for your eyes to travel its damage in tourism. I will not, on tear stained dear diary, sing any soliloquy recounting sleepless nights suspended between thought and memory, of when you closed your eyes so that you could see me better, I will not reproach your condition with upturned chastisement, for the ways we tried to kill our sadness, when we courted poverty and death. I will not number the losses on each of my fingers, carefully counting out the teeth of beasts o
Queen of Hearts
I busk as a fortune teller at flea markets and on the sides of roads. Palms and playing cards of paper, yellowed with age, and stained with a coffee ring. I bring offerings of whiskey and tobacco to the dead. I break bottles on train tracks and howl at the moon. I do my business at the crossroads. I wash my skin with milk and honey. I touch my throat, wrists and mons with perfumed oils of rose and jasmine, when I rise from my bath. I rub my body down in a salve of olive oil conditioned with hyssop and coconut oil. I wash my face with cool distilled rain water soaked in chamomile. I wear a red silk sachet with dried rose petals and crushed lav
© 2010 - 2024 mum
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LOVE this Such a lovely book!