You are the gentle finger tips that roused me
from a sleep, so deep,
I let it swallow me
You are a cool breeze trailing across warm skin
and waking my sensesYou let yourself into my heart
quietly, effortlessly,
like you had always lived there,
like you had always belonged
Bookends.
“How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.”―Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Happy birthday, Virginia Woolf, January 25, 1882
Doris Zinkeisen (1898-1991) - Ballerinas
Snowy Pastel Winter Scenes by Katarzyna Gritzmann
Christian Dior S/S 2017 Haute Couture
I don’t care if it’s a sad good-bye or a bad good-bye, but when I leave a place I like to know I’m leaving it.