Oh herro!
You are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing.
E.E. Cummings 
20/30

nilesheron:

when her hands unfolded:
they made a table of my lap,
spread uncharted at my fingertips,
turned me to more a map maker
than the other men
I had dressed as prior.
There was petal and
caligraphy in her palms;
valleys, lifelines dug
or stitched, or carved
Tigres and Euphrates or
something other river I haven’t learned a name for —
mouth open
she sung cradle.

Two months ago I thought there was no way I would be able to adjust to another new normal. And this week felt so normal. Not good but ok. I guess. And it’s not ok. I’m not ok. Not really. Not how I want to be.

RIP Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
Photograph by Helmut Newton.

RIP Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Photograph by Helmut Newton.

jahasmusings:

So I produce this terrific show called Red Stories that happens the third Sunday of each month and like, I’d love you to come and check it out. It’s a storytelling show where I feature one artist to tell his / her journey. It’s the best you just had to be there kind of place. This month I’m…

Same. 

Same. 

K

Donny came with all of this because of my fall. I’m always taken care of.

Donny came with all of this because of my fall. I’m always taken care of.