Something Fine

by Sara Gelfgrenhttp://saragelfgren.com/

Mon, 13 May 2013 20:07:55 +0800

by Sara Gelfgren
http://saragelfgren.com/

by Chris Boyd@ichrisboyd Closet Romance “I guess this is the closest we can ever get to each...

Thu, 25 Apr 2013 22:11:00 +0800

by Chris Boyd
@ichrisboyd

Closet Romance

“I guess this is the closest we can ever get to each other,” said the naked girl as she lay in front of the naked boy.

“I wish I could be even more inside of you,“ said the boy as he drew a trembling finger slowly along her smooth curves.

“What, like double penetration?” said the girl turning slightly in the dark.

“No,” said the boy with a sigh, “Not like that at all.”

The naked girl listened for a while to the sound of soft earth hitting hard wood above them before she took her last breath.

The naked boy gazed blindly at the heavy roof two inches from his nose.

END

by Jihyun Parkwww.jihyunart.com

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 23:42:23 +0800

by Jihyun Park
www.jihyunart.com

by Lisa Dobbinhttp://lisadobbin.tumblr.com/

Thu, 24 Jan 2013 00:10:32 +0800

by Lisa Dobbin
http://lisadobbin.tumblr.com/

Homage to Skype (8 years) by Kristen...

Thu, 17 Jan 2013 17:45:51 +0800

Homage to Skype (8 years)

by Kristen Dobbin
http://kristendobbin.tumblr.com

by Maria D.

Tue, 15 Jan 2013 21:04:22 +0800

by Maria D.

by Greta...

Wed, 03 Oct 2012 19:59:39 +0800

by Greta Bellamacina
www.gretabellamacina.com
http://gretabellamacina.tumblr.com/
@grbellamacina

Born Woman

I think I saw an angel- Venus,

A plane of poetry, birthed

A portrait bitter and waxed to Juliet.

In a concert hall, remote in pace

Like memory upon.

I think I saw her awake,

Modern her posture twisting and keen. Madam

Seizing. Madam moon

Should I sing you a song I wrote today?

Naive to the fades and edges of a drum.

Twelve o’clock she chooses literature.

And its always been a while to you

Woman. Lady- madam moon. Assume

The world from the small shell house,

In love songs planet.

Yes, it was her rising through oysters

And soot. Pools of mapped palms.

Born a woman to the sea. Battle her spirit

Because interaction paints foam and vacant

Filleted verse. Nude and Latin she plays tiles- an unofficial state.

Because reality makes men- in class,

As watered angels are not so.

Obscure she a sketch of direction,

Slender like a slant of a hill- top tree

And Venus an angel, you are sure not to see.

by Daisy...

Mon, 01 Oct 2012 21:09:51 +0800

by Daisy Walker
www.daisysachawalker.wordpress.com
@deedoubleyoo

That devastating, beating need only the deepest love can induce.

Beat a changing pattern, beat a beat,
A twisting wind that whirls and twirls inside,
Your sudden call brings rhythm to my feet,
A longing desire my body dares to ride,
I hanker for you; my head, my heart, my hands-
crave your heard, your heart, your hands, your skin-
to kiss. Take me to your lands,
Take me there to wash away the din,
Take my eyes- they’ve looked and never seen,
Take my lips- they’ve seldom served me well,
Yet leave my touch- fingertips free-
to learn the light and shade of all your tell.
And then when i have learnt and all is done,
kill me then, to rot beneath the sun.

This is Chris. I think the moment I saw him I was in love with...

Mon, 27 Aug 2012 18:54:00 +0800

This is Chris. I think the moment I saw him I was in love with him. Or maybe being around him made me feel like a better person. We grew up together and I had always kept these feelings to myself. I guess I didn’t want to break the barrier of friendship that was always there. We went our separate ways, and with things that were going on in my personal life our contact strayed. He was studying, and I was overseas. I returned back to the country and we left brief messages to each other, a year went by and these things, they seemed normal.

Normality was what it had become.

I had been checking my facebook. Many people were leaving him messages on his wall. I skipped the thought that something had happened and went on with the day.

I had turned my phone off. I guess at the time I knew what had happened but I didn’t want to face it. To me, he was still studying. He was still somewhere else, alive.

by Adriana Maroc

desiretoinspiremonkeys.tumblr.com

by Rachel Salewww.rachelsaleillustration.com@rachel_sale When I...

Thu, 16 Aug 2012 19:47:00 +0800

by Rachel Sale
www.rachelsaleillustration.com
@rachel_sale

When I first fell in love I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was like no other feeling and I let it take over my entire life. I became genuinely ridiculous and annoying and managed to completely freak out my girlfriend, who swiftly dumped me.

First Love

Wed, 08 Aug 2012 00:40:32 +0800

by Charlotte
http://chucksmiscellany.blogspot.co.uk/
@CMiscellany

I floated three inches off the ground for the week after I first said ‘I love you’ romantically. I had said the words before of course, to friends and family, to my dog and drunkenly to strangers at parties, but this was different. This time the words meant something new and special. They had been a hot, prickly weight in my chest for weeks before I had uttered them; speech loosed them and left me unanchored, free from gravitational constraints.

You hear a lot about the pleasures of being told that you are loved. Of listening to your beloved speaking those three, immortal words that promise you are special, treasured and adored. The knight declares his devotion and the lady swoons in delight. And it is delightful to know that, despite your manifest flaws, someone can still say those words and feel the things they signify for you.

Yet I can’t help but think that the pleasures of telling are being undervalued. Hearing is passive but speaking is active. As the teller you take the risk and you reap the reward. You can be told you are loved without reciprocating the emotion – telling is feeling. When you meaningfully say ‘I love you,’ especially for the first time, you are filled with the awareness of your capacity to love. Love is awesome and brave and delicious and when you can share it out loud with your loved one it overflows inside you and that is pretty great.