invitation, mary oliver// @arthoesunshine // when death comes, mary oliver//to be alive, gregory ott// the dead poets society(1989), quote: walden, henry david thoreau// joseph campbell// the aeneid, virgil// @babyangel-jpg // @rawjoy //sweet, charles bukowski// that it will never come again, emily dickinson// bjenny montero// ? // ? // moments, mary oliver// madness a bipolar life, marya hornbacher// wild geese, mary oliver// letters to a young poet, rainer maria rilke// on earth we’re briefly gorgeous, ocean voung// @ashstfu // i thought on his desire for three days, linda gregg
We’re not a married couple, though today We let ourselves pretend we are. We walk Together holding hands outside, afraid Of nothing. Lost in recipes, I cook A dinner too outlandish, while you plot To buy me something I can’t really use. You call me silly nicknames (“Tater Tot” Is one that makes me cringe); I look at you A little wistfully, believing love is real, And do things equally ridiculous, Like sit in places you’ve just left to feel Your warmth seep into me. The two of us, Together all these years, forget we are Two men who’ll never marry, still just queers.
