I love this world because it is imperfect. It is imperfect, and that’s why it is...– Osho (via shetakesflight)
She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air,...– S. N. B.
I have awaken. Sunshine peers through, piercing my iris’. We are intertwined. His hands in mine. My head across his chest. I hear a thump. His heart beats into my ear. I reach for his cheek. I pull on his sandpaper face, as his fingers flow. Through my hair they go. We touch lips. A goodmorning kiss. So wet and sweet. I bury my face in his neck. Still euphoric of the night, cologne dances...
Coldness comes. You begin to fall. Without our touch, nothing’s felt at all. The pressure builds. You pile on. Flow towards the end, where you’ll be gone. Your movement through. Eroding walls away. Carrying the pieces, which are left to lay. But surely again, the coldness burns. You’ll fall ever more. Until you return. By: Morgan Sparks
You can’t be wise and in love at the same time.– Bob Dylan (via nobunnyluvsyou)