D. likes figs. And soccer and every single movie with Jude Law. And he likes ‘The Tiger and the Snow’ because it was actually written by Roberto Benigni. 

He smells like freshly washed clothes and cigarettes.

His eyes have the color of a frozen lake.

He’s passionate about cooking and he’s my master chef when it comes to cooking pasta for us.

He can’t stand stupidity or Kate Moss or cats.

He’s got very pretty teeth and a lot of beauty spots (I have a favorite one that is on a hidden bit that nobody else can see).

He never refuses me anything.

He’s my everything.

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here. 
It will blind you with tears 
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.

Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.

—	“Valentine” , Carol Ann Duffy

• me: I'm gonna study when I get home
• me: I'll just study before I go to bed
• me: I'll just study in the morning
• me: I'll just study on the way to school
• me: I'll just study in this class
• me: I'll just study in the hall
• me: I'll just study before the test
• me: I'll just study during the test

I'll sing this somber serenade

The past is done

We've been betrayed

It's true

Someone said the truth will out

I believe without a doubt, in you

You were there for summer dreaming
And you are a friend indeed
And I know you'll find your freedom
Eventually
For eternity
For eternity...

“

It was late, of course,
just the two of us still at the table
working on a second bottle of wine

when you speculated that maybe Eve came first
and Adam began as a rib
that leaped out of her side one paradisal afternoon.

Maybe, I remember saying,
because much was possible back then,
and I mentioned the talking snake
and the giraffes sticking their necks out of the ark,
their noses up in the pouring Old Testament rain.

I like a main with a flexible mind, you said then,
lifting your candlelit glass to me
and I raised mine to you and began to wonder
what life would be like as one of your ribs —
to be with you all the time,
riding under your blouse and skin,
caged under the soft weight of your breasts,

your favorite rib, I am assuming,
if you ever bothered to stop and count them

which is just what I did later that night
after you had fallen asleep
and we were fitted tightly back to front,
your long legs against the length of mine,
my fingers doing the crazy numbering that comes of love.

”

- “Genesis,” Billy Collins

Two bodies of water have trouble mixing because they have different densities.

summer 2012 lookbook of argentinian label A.Y. Not Dead

words cannot describe how much love I am feeling for this lookbook!

tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.

In an interview done decades after their 1967 divorce, in the midst of talking about their collaborations in the 1960’s that helped define the New Wave movement, the interviewer suddenly asked them, “can one be happy again after having such an intense relationship?”

In a rough translation, Anna Karina responds “Yes, one can be happy, but in a different way.”

Godard essentially responds “No, I believe one can be much happier.”

Anna Karina begins to tear up and excuses herself from the interview.

We fit together perfectly because we are completely opposite to one another; contradicting notions. I loved you for your gentle and timid nature; you loved me for my boisterous and thunderous temperament. I loved you for your body, always warm, unperturbed and comfortable; my body always seemed cold and frozen waiting for yours to clasp onto. I loved you for your calm and rational mind; you loved me for my neurotic and despondent mind. I loved you, because you weren’t me and I guess that’s why you loved me too. But in the end my love for you was too immense and compulsive for your love for me and so it ended before it ever began.

I used to think I was completely in love, but now I’m here all alone and broken hearted and I’m starting to think maybe I was wrong. Love shouldn’t end this way. In fact, love shouldn’t end at all.

The rain hits my window like a song we used to sing;

Your dark eyes are forever etched into the tender fiber that is my memory. The drops of water remind me of the false ‘i love yous’ you would sing to me. I am sick so sick of trying. I know I will never mean as much to you as you do so to me.