2/11/11



is it possible to feel too much? evening's incendiary is syncopated in the way of a toddler, stumbling on fountains  but always desiccated, reminiscent of a fractured stage and crumbling voices. everything implores from cavities of light(like hurt), vicinities and vicinities fluctuate. our lackluster eyes grow blank. we fill the bellows of our lungs with smoke, our thoughts become faint and diaphanous, skeletons.

cannot know how much, in those last hours, we wish for the brave resilience of autumn. frail hearts fail to capture what little of october persists(crickets chirp and we swallow the crumbs of stillness' blizzard, choking). our hands decompose with flowers into irrevocable shattering; we dream in static, dying. our vitality is quick(a mirror, a relic of what we wish the world to be), every scream and every laugh and dance something of an inadequate apoptosis-- our cancer spreads swiftly. feet grow hard of frostbite, the moon plummets fleetingly with the tide(limbs retract, linked, we forget because there is nothing to remember.) we excavate shadows, we become them.




this,  and  this.

32 comments:

Unknown said...

Beautiful words, of course. You always seem to say the most amazing things. You are a wonderful writer, so dreamy and thoughtful. The photographs are pretty too! :) x

Edge said...

Those pictures make me shivery :)

Joanna said...

Such strong imagery! "frail hearts fail to capture what little of october persists" That was such beauty. ♥ Your writing is stunning. xxx

Erin said...

I love the first photograph, and The Little Prince is one of my most favorite books.

Jhordyn Ashley said...

I just adore these photographs. Of course your words are gorgeous too, as always!

xx and hugs

Jhordyn

Verenda Harrt said...

I swear; we've known each other for what? 3 years. I may be wrong but i just wanna prove the point that your perfect<3

Em [The Writer] said...

Thanks for the comment. Yes, I think it's possible to feel too much. It happens all the time.

Again beautiful writing and beautiful pictures.

Sarah said...

Beautiful photos! Oh, and happy valentine's, Julia! x

Anonymous said...

Such beautiful words, dear...

m. said...

your words are so filled with beauty, it's unfair.
xox

L. said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
lydn said...

"we excavate shadows, we become them." So true. x

Ps, Oh dear, oh dear. Please do not mind the previous deleted comment; It was I, but the account is somewhat semi-active. I only use it to keep track of old blogs.

Loulou said...

thank you for leaving your really sweet words that made me visit this place - reading your blog and seeing your pictures is like listening to loved music

brigduong said...

This is such a beautiful post!

Unknown said...

Dear, I have listed you! Finally. I have been meaning to, but I have had computer issues.

Abigail Oliveros said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
skeletaldreams said...
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Teresa said...

ahhh your blog is the prettiest thing ever! :)

Ariana said...

Beautiful. xxxx

Melissa said...

This gave me goosebumps,
I think it is truly beautiful.

Anonymous said...

thank you, just thank you for everything.
and yes, it is possible to feel too much, i know.

Lily said...

the contrast in the innocent mind of your photos&your words is so wonderful<3 X

MJ said...

there is a rhythm in your words, a soft pace that carries you from sentence to sentence, until the inevitable conclusion. And then a content sigh. Beautiful. x

illustration poetry said...

no im not amazing, but You, yes you are amazing!

illustration poetry said...

love the bokeh...

m. said...

this is so lovely.
so so lovely.
xo

Rachel said...

your words are lovely.

Hila said...

your words fit the images so well.

Jennifer Louise said...

This post made me smile :)

Anonymous said...

Thank you for your words xx

A said...

such gorgeous pictures & beautiful words. You're amazing. xo A

Amy + Ava said...

such a beautiful photo! :)

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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)