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p.l.s. // poet: "even so, i must admire your skill. you are so gracefully insane."

The first time he calls you holy,
you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt.
The second time,
you moan gospel around his fingers
between your teeth.
He has always surprised
you into surprising yourself.
Because he’s an angel hiding his halo
behind his back and
nothing has ever felt so filthy
as plucking the wings from his shoulders—
undressing his softness
one feather at a time.
God, if you’re out there,
if you’re listening,
he fucks like a seraphim,
and there’s no part of scripture
that ever prepared you for his hands.
Hands that map a communion
in the cradle of your hips.
Hands that kiss hymns up your sides.
He confesses how long he’s looked
for a place to worship and,
you put him on his knees.
When he sinks to the floor and moans
like he can’t help himself,
you wonder if the other angels
fell so sweet.
He says his prayers between your thighs
and you dig your heels into the base of his spine
until he blushes the color of your filthy tongue.
You will ruin him and he will thank you;
he will say please.
No damnation ever looked as cozy as this,
but you fit over his hips like they
were made for you.
You fit, you fit, you fit.
On top of him, you are an ancient god
that only he remembers and he
offers up his skin.
And you take it.
Who knew sacrifice was so profane?
And once you’ve taught him how to hold
your throat in one hand
and your heart in the other,
you will have forgotten every other word,
except his name.

PROFANE, by Ashe Vernon (via 5000letters)

(via 5000letters)

9:20 pm     5,664 notes
October 17 2014
Post tags: holy fuck words


Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought
Maybe I just wanna be yours
I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours

(via violentwavesofemotion)

9:17 pm     598 notes
October 17 2014
Post tags: i wanna be yours music

I take back what you have stolen,
and in your languages I announce
I am now nameless.
My true name is a growl.

Margaret Atwood, from “The Animals Reject Their Names and Things Return to Their Origins (via elucipher)

(Source: robcam-wfu, via 5000letters)

9:16 pm     3,028 notes
October 17 2014
Post tags: quotes damnn

I didn’t say I liked it. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference.

Oscar Wilde, adapted from The Picture of Dorian Gray

(Source: lifeinpoetry)

8:48 pm     26,503 notes
October 17 2014
Post tags: oscar wilde quotes

it’s like this:
say there’s a whole room of people and you’re somewhere in the middle of them all.
I walk in and I see you, but you don’t suddenly become the only person in the room. god no. you become the room. you are the room.

— Salma Deera, The Room, The Building, Etc. 

(Source: writingwillows, via 5000letters)

8:48 pm     3,211 notes
October 17 2014
Post tags: quotes

I can’t do it. I’ve been so good, but I just can’t go on. He comes into the bathroom when I’m flossing my teeth. I long to be in an elevator with you, stuck between floors. Tell me something filthy. I hate love, don’t you?

Margaret Atwood, from “Wilderness Tips,” Wilderness Tips (via lifeinpoetry)

(via alonesomes)

5:20 pm     2,197 notes
October 15 2014
Post tags: quotes

What’s the worst thing I’ve stolen? Probably little pieces of other people’s lives. Where I’ve either wasted their time or hurt them in some way. That’s the worst thing you can steal, the time of other people. You just can’t get that back.

— Chester Bennington

(Source: larmoyante)

8:03 am     12,634 notes
October 12 2014
Post tags: quotes