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  • firstfullmoon

    @firstfullmoon

    absurd times call for absurd amounts of love

    10812 Posts

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  • firstfullmoon
    26.01.2021 - 1 hour ago

    interlibraryloan :

    Walk up in my high heels, all high and mighty
                And you say, “Hello”
                         And I lose

    #nobody butters me up like you! #m#mitski
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  • firstfullmoon
    26.01.2021 - 2 hours ago

    While she sleeps, I paint
    Valencia oranges across her skin,
    seven times the color orange,
    a bright tree glittering the limestone grotto of her clavicle—

    — Natalie Diaz, from “I Lean Out the Window and She Nods Off in Bed, the Needle Gently Rocking on the Bedside Table,” in When My Brother Was an Aztec

    #w#natalie diaz#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    26.01.2021 - 5 hours ago

    —the walls have been mortared with grief, dark enough
    to make blindness a gift—we don’t have to look each other in the eyes.

    — Natalie Diaz, from “As a Consequence of My Brother Stealing All the Lightbulbs,” in When My Brother Was an Aztec

    #w#natalie diaz#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    25.01.2021 - 16 hours ago

    inkwellspells :

    glad shirley jackson and angela carter were really out there writing stories for reclusive & fanciful girls everywhere

    #julia armfield taking up the torch in contemporary fiction <3 #i need everyone to read salt slow. please!
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  • firstfullmoon
    25.01.2021 - 17 hours ago

    Maybe you have grown out of yours—
    maybe you no longer haul those wounds with you
    onto every bus, through the side streets of a new town,
    maybe you have never set them rocking in the lamplight
    on a nightstand beside a stranger’s bed, carrying your hurts
    like two cracked pomegranates, because you haven’t learned
    to see the beauty of a busted fruit, the bright stain it will leave
    on your lips, the way it will make people want to kiss you.

    — Natalie Diaz, from “The Beauty of a Busted Fruit,” in When My Brother Was an Aztec

    #w#natalie diaz#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    25.01.2021 - 20 hours ago
    My brother is arrested again and again. And again / our dad, our Sisyphus, pushes his old blue heart up to the station.
    Natalie Diaz, from “Downhill Triolets,” in When My Brother Was an Aztec
    #w#natalie diaz#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    25.01.2021 - 23 hours ago
    In the dark our hands / pretend to pray but really make love.
    Natalie Diaz, from “Cloud Watching,” in When My Brother Was An Aztec
    #w#natalie diaz #tenderness is in the hands #q
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  • firstfullmoon
    25.01.2021 - 1 day ago

    to have you a last time, at last, a touch away,
    but then, to not reach out
    because my hands are dressed in scarves of smoke;

    to lie silent at your side,

    an ember more brilliant with each yellow breath,
    glowing and dying and dying again,
    dreaming a mesquite forest I once stripped to fire
    before the sky went ash, undid its dark ribbons,
    and bent to the ground, grief-ruined,

    as I watch you from the window—
    in this city, the city of you, where I am a beggar—

    — Natalie Diaz, from “Monday Aubade,” in When My Brother Was an Aztec

    #w#natalie diaz #the earth was made for lovers #q
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  • firstfullmoon
    25.01.2021 - 1 day ago

    serratedpens:

    Hands in Denis Sarazhin’s art

    #art #tenderness is in the hands #q
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  • firstfullmoon
    24.01.2021 - 1 day ago
    The sea keeps rocking in and I want to talk. I am that clumsy human on the shore loving you.
    Leila Chatti, from “Deluge,” in Deluge
    #w#leila chatti#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    24.01.2021 - 1 day ago

    When the doctor says the word sarcoma, I consider how it might be a nice name for a daughter, that good feminine a, the way parents name their children for all sorts of inappropriate things—apples, for instance, or the place where the baby was conceived—and I trace my fingers over the barrow of my belly as he speaks, flesh distended beneath the blue tissue I wear for a dress—an ideal grief frock, throwaway—and he says something about life expectancy but of course I expect my life, so plain I thought nothing would ever take it, and while he explains I cup my palms around my center—as if comforting a child, or covering her ears.

    — Leila Chatti, “Sarcoma,” in Deluge

    #w#leila chatti#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    24.01.2021 - 1 day ago
    shame was a blade
    you turned against yourself
    and once you knew it
    you could use it—
    Deluge; ‘Questions Directed Toward the Idea of Mary’ by Leila Chatti (via decreation )
    #w#leila chatti#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    24.01.2021 - 2 days ago
    I was young enough to think anything
    that bled was a wound.
    Deluge; ‘The Blood’ by Leila Chatti
    (via decreation )
    #w#leila chatti #suppose the body did this to us #q
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  • firstfullmoon
    24.01.2021 - 2 days ago

    existential-celestial :

    Osip Mandelstam (b. 15 Jan 1891) in his poem describing life during the years of being a fugitive and exile, translated by Christian Wiman, featured in My Bright Abyss

    #oh god all of this is... #w#osip mandelstam #the precious intimacy of little things #q
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  • firstfullmoon
    23.01.2021 - 2 days ago

    how do i have 12K 😳 this really means i need to stop sharing personal stuff on here

    #will overshare on my private twitter account instead as i should and already do #btw if any mutual wants u can ask for it
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  • firstfullmoon
    23.01.2021 - 2 days ago

    —if I could remember a day when I was utterly a girl
    and not yet a woman—

    but I don’t think there was a day like that for me.

    When I look at the girl I was, dripping in her bathing suit,
    or riding her bike, pumping hard down the newly paved street,

    she wears a furtive look—
    and even if I could go back in time to her as me, the age I am now

    she would never come into my arms
    without believing that I wanted something.

    — Marie Howe, from “The Girl,” in What the Living Do: Poems

    #:(#w#marie howe#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    23.01.2021 - 2 days ago

    dykemulder:

    sometimes i think u do need to make ur personality abt loving something. but not like a person or a celebrity but something good like broccoli

    #pink & poetry #like thats literally it
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  • firstfullmoon
    23.01.2021 - 2 days ago

    I scarcely remember the crust of the snow.
    I scarcely remember the icy dawns and the sun like a lamp without a fuse.
    I don’t remember the fury of loneliness.

    — Mary Oliver, from “Crows”

    #w#mary oliver#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    23.01.2021 - 2 days ago
    The world was suddenly still; nothing was being required of me; I could stand in the quiet of my own skin.
    Maggie O’Farrell, from I am I am I am  (via weltenwellen )
    #w#maggie o'farrell#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    23.01.2021 - 3 days ago
    The tenderness that you find between the poems emerged from my need for it, and as I assembled the book, from my awareness that the reader needs it too. I don’t think I could have continued to write the poems in “Fugitive Atlas” if I did not know that there are places for tenderness that I could reach out for in the world, moments to buoy me, and to assure me that kindness exists in abundance, and it’s what we live for.
    Khaled Mattawa, interviewed by Ilya Kaminsky, in Short Conversations with Poets
    (via soracities )
    #oh...oh... #w #without tenderness we are in hell #q
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  • firstfullmoon
    23.01.2021 - 3 days ago

    toskka-deactivated20210124:

    how intricately love crosses love; love makes knots; love brutally tears them apart. I have been knotted; I have been torn apart.

    The Waves, Virginia Woolf

    #oh wow#w#virginia woolf#q
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  • June Jordan, from “In Memoriam,” in Haruko: Love Poems[text ID: We ateA family tremulous but fortifiedby turnips/okra/handpickedlike the liliesfilled to the very living fullone solid gospel                           (sanctified)one gospel                           (peace)one fall Black lily luminescentin a homemade fieldof love] #a homemade field of love..! #w#june jordan #the precious intimacy of little things  #i love you i want us both to eat well #q
    firstfullmoon
    22.01.2021 - 3 days ago

    June Jordan, from “In Memoriam,” in Haruko: Love Poems

    [text ID: We ate
    A family tremulous but fortified
    by turnips/okra/handpicked
    like the lilies

    filled to the very living
    full
    one solid gospel
                               (sanctified)
    one gospel
                               (peace)

    one fall Black lily
    luminescent
    in a homemade field

    of love]

    #a homemade field of love..! #w#june jordan #the precious intimacy of little things #i love you i want us both to eat well #q
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  • firstfullmoon
    22.01.2021 - 3 days ago

    etherea1ity:

    i sat quietly beside the window, closed my eyes and listened to the rhythm of gentle waves hitting the sea shore…
    #dream life... #q
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  • firstfullmoon
    22.01.2021 - 3 days ago
    Question: what is emotional edging...
    Answer:

    Watching In The Mood For Love 19 times in one year

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  • firstfullmoon
    22.01.2021 - 3 days ago

    soracities :

    *makes 2 tin can phones out of our red string of fate*

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  • firstfullmoon
    22.01.2021 - 3 days ago
    ‘There’s this world,’ she banged the wall graphically, ‘and this world,’ she thumped her chest. ‘If you want to make sense of either, you have to take notice of both.’
    Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, Jeanette Winterson
    (via decreation )
    #w#jeanette winterson#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    22.01.2021 - 4 days ago
    Question:

    hi! in your own words, what is fiction (fiction books)? love your blog so much 💞


    Answer:

    i love to think of fiction as a way of putting into words what it means to be human. i feel like every book of fiction can be reduced to this. exploring large matters such as hope, compassion, love, through individual characters and stories. a beautifully crafted portrait of the human experience

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  • firstfullmoon
    22.01.2021 - 4 days ago

    7000s:

    “But—that one summer of bliss. In that kitchen. I was not afraid of burns or scars; I didn’t suffer from sleepless nights. Every day I thrilled with pleasure at the challenges tomorrow would bring. Memorizing the recipe, I would make carrot cakes that included a bit of my soul. At the supermarket I would stare at a bright red tomato, loving it for dear life. Having known such joy, there was no going back.”

    -Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto.

    #oh...need to buy n read #w#banana yoshimoto#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    22.01.2021 - 4 days ago

    7000s:

    “Her hair rustled, brushing her shoulders. There are many days when all the awful things that happen make you sick at heart, when the path before you is so steep you can’t bear to look. Not even love can rescue a person from that. Still, enveloped in the twilight coming from the west, there she was, watering the plants with her slender, graceful hands, in the midst of a light so sweet it seemed to form a rainbow in the transparent water she poured. “I think I understand.””

    -Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto

    #not even love can rescue a person from that... #w#banana yoshimoto#q
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  • firstfullmoon
    21.01.2021 - 4 days ago
    I don’t know how to poultice my heart.
    Jeanette Winterson, from Lighthousekeeping
    #w#jeanette winterson#q
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