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why
Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly--
A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxide, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.
O my God, what am I
That these late mouths should cry open
In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers.
- Poppies in October by Sylvia Plath
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2011
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December
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- I just know I'm gonna dream again tonight, doc
- solstice
- winter
- Jenna is the best
- crying
- off of Psych Funk Sa-Re-Ga
- I found my one true love
- OBSESSED WITH THIS SCENE
- Oh.
- raging bitch
- gender has never once factored in to my tastemakin...
- Bjork as a planet
- mood swing central
- mhm
- New favorite weird blog
- WTFFFFFFF
- This song is so good.
- Oh college
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December
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