I write without thinking all that my unconscious screams. I think later: not only to correct, but to justify what I wrote.
– Mário de Andrade –
Will you accept love as I see it? …
… light blue, a nimbus,
gently guard the image …
All the best and the rarest
lives in your naked body …
the clear look stuck in mine, hopelessly.
Do not demand anything else.
I do not want anything else, just to look at you, while reality is simple, and this only.
What greatness … the total evasion of the pejo
that is born of imperfections.
The charm that comes from serene adorations.
– Mário de Andrade – Will you accept love as I do?
Ph : Korbinian Vogt
They sing exotic birds in your pubis.
How to graphically mirror
a dream melody? …
– Mário de Andrade –
Ph : Elliot Erwitt
They sing exotic birds in your pubis.
How to define the brief vertigo
in moments of lucidity?
– Mário de Andrade –
Ph : Igor Vasiliadis
How many disappointments fit into the abyss
that separates the feeling of the word?
– Mário de Andrade –
They sing exotic birds in your pubis.
For us both, in the vortex of delirium …
The ecstasy is beyond the desperate embrace
beyond the cups of the breast …
– Mário de Andrade –
Ph : Dmytro Gurnicki
back
Negative people talk
and your dreams begin to wither off.
But they begin to sprout in the fragrance of hope when they find a new soil …
– Israelmore Ayivor –
Ph : Jennifer B Hudson
He looks at me, and I don’t know what he sees … It’s just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.
– Lauren DeStefano –
Ph : Jodeviant
Vaughn is talking about the heat, and his voice is so excited that it breaks into whispers at times. He loves his madness the way a bird loves the sky.
– Lauren DeStefano –
Ph : Jodeviant
this happy desire to embrace you
how far you are from me
imagine you everywhere …
I see you in a dream, I dream of kissing you;
I see you shadow, I chase after …
with seeing you and dreaming, this memory
this magical longing …
the illusion that you have finally arrived;
the deceitful force of, in truth,
to have thee, far from me, with me.
– Mário de Andrade – Eternal Presence
Ph : Jodeviant
satomipoema 