Nº. 1 of  150

mulberry alliance

We could slip away, wouldn't that be better? Me with nothing to say and you in your autumn sweater.

(Source: kevc, via lesfrench)

fairycastle:

untitled by IrenaS on Flickr.

fairycastle:

untitled by IrenaS on Flickr.

(via lesfrench)

luzfosca:

André Kertész
Greenwich Village, New York (woman reading in fire escape window), 1963.
Thanks to wonderfulambiguity

luzfosca:

André Kertész

Greenwich Village, New York (woman reading in fire escape window), 1963.

Thanks to wonderfulambiguity

(via lesfrench)

For Muhammed Abu Khdeir

At 16, there is wax to burn.
Did you fly alight when they held you
And put flame in your belly like a lantern?
Would you balloon and rise into the deepening sky,
Your chest kindling as it picks up wind,
Saying to us, down here: I am no longer of you,
But I will guide you. Until the currents
Take you far, 
until you
Either blink away into the cindery night or
Are consumed and fall beyond the buildings?

If your windpipe is a wick, your eyes
light from the inside, this body a bag
Holding every brick since they were first scored out of the earth.
Your skin is soft as paper, as glue.

From many hands, from nighttime, from shedding
Shirts, from sands that you will never see
Again, sublime from solid into ash, you climb, translucent, boy.

St. Vincent at Glastonbury 2014

(Source: facebook.com, via fuckyeahstvincent)

(Source: picaet, via excercisebook)

Nº. 1 of  150