That I have been looking
For you all my life
Does not matter to you.
You do not know.
You never knew.
Nor did I.
Now you take the Harlem train uptown;
I take a local down.
Posts tagged poetry.
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
D. H. Lawrence
I can’t lie that dreams are ridiculous.
And in dreaming myself upon the moon
I have made the moon my home and no one
Can ever get to me to hit me or kiss my lips.
To treat every day as a word spoken to us. And yourself—as an answer to the word.
Anna Kamienska, from The Notebook: 1965-1972 (via proustitute)