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April 15, 2011 at 7:21 AM

Happy Friday Tumblrs

xoxo
.MB.

Happy Friday Tumblrs

xoxo

.MB.

(Source: gardenofthefareast, via thesensualstarfish)

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April 15, 2011 at 5:34 AM

To be lost in that moment with you, when nothing but you and I exist.  To feel your hands as they move over my body.  Your lipsagainst my own.  Your scent clinging to my skin.  Every nerve inmy body alive with need… desire and want. With each breath takenit’s you.

To be lost in that moment with you, when nothing but you and I
exist.  To feel your hands as they move over my body.  Your lips
against my own.  Your scent clinging to my skin.  Every nerve in
my body alive with need… desire and want. With each breath taken
it’s you.

(via myinsideisout-deactivated201108)

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April 15, 2011 at 5:31 AM

erospainter:
the illusion is that you are simplyreading this poem.the reality is that this ismore than apoem.this is a beggar’s knife.this is a tulip.this is a soldier marchingthrough Madrid.this is you on yourdeath bed.this is Li Po laughingunderground.this is not a god-damnedpoem.this is a horse asleep.a butterfly inyour brain.this is the devil’scircus.you are not reading thison a page.the page is readingyou.feel it?it’s like a cobra. it’s a hungry eagle circling the room.this is not a poem. poems are dull,they make you sleep.these words force youto a newmadness.you have been blessed, you have been pushed into ablinding area oflight.the elephant dreamswith younow.the curve of spacebends andlaughs.you can die now.you can die now aspeople were meant todie:great,victorious,hearing the music,being the music,roaring,roaring,roaring.-charles bukowski

erospainter:

the illusion is that you are simply
reading this poem.
the reality is that this is
more than a
poem.
this is a beggar’s knife.
this is a tulip.
this is a soldier marching
through Madrid.
this is you on your
death bed.
this is Li Po laughing
underground.
this is not a god-damned
poem.
this is a horse asleep.
a butterfly in
your brain.
this is the devil’s
circus.
you are not reading this
on a page.
the page is reading
you.
feel it?
it’s like a cobra. it’s a hungry eagle circling the room.

this is not a poem. poems are dull,
they make you sleep.

these words force you
to a new
madness.

you have been blessed, you have been pushed into a
blinding area of
light.

the elephant dreams
with you
now.
the curve of space
bends and
laughs.

you can die now.
you can die now as
people were meant to
die:
great,
victorious,
hearing the music,
being the music,
roaring,
roaring,
roaring.

-charles bukowski

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April 15, 2011 at 5:05 AM

She laid there feeling as if nothing could touch her.Her body stretching out as the sun covered her with it’s warmthUnseen by eyes, she let the tears fall.One could be on top of the world and feel like their world was crumbling down around them.

She laid there feeling as if nothing could touch her.
Her body stretching out as the sun covered her with it’s warmth
Unseen by eyes, she let the tears fall.
One could be on top of the world
and feel like their world was crumbling down around them.

(via visiual-deactivated20110602)

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April 14, 2011 at 7:12 AM

(via spycnsweet)

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April 14, 2011 at 7:10 AM

(via ilovereadingandwriting)

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April 14, 2011 at 7:09 AM

(via ilovereadingandwriting)

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April 14, 2011 at 7:06 AM

(via guidovanspellen)

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April 14, 2011 at 7:06 AM

(via guidovanspellen)

Quote

April 14, 2011 at 7:03 AM

The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.

— Friedrich Nietzsche

(Source: guidovanspellen)

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April 12, 2011 at 2:59 PM

(via damaneiraqueeugosto-deactivated)

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April 12, 2011 at 9:11 AM

A girl can dream can’t she?

A girl can dream can’t she?

(via eagerlicker)

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April 12, 2011 at 9:06 AM

(Source: kwerkyone, via ella9)

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April 12, 2011 at 8:29 AM

(via lumieres-home)

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April 12, 2011 at 8:27 AM

(via misslollymoon-deactivated201309)