Sharon Olds

I took the Metro to Cité. I walked past Notre-Dame and thought of the hunchback Quasimodo swinging his misshapen body across the bell-ropes of love for Esmerelda. Quasimodo was a deaf mute. Cupid is blind. Freud called love an ‘overestimation of the object.’ But I would swing through the ringing world for you.

— Jeannette Winterson, “All I Know About Gertrude Stein” (via grammatolatry)

Make love to me in Spanish.
Not with that other tongue.
I want you juntito a mi,
tender like the language
crooned to babies.
I want to be that
lullabied, mi bien
querido, that loved.

I want you inside
the mouth of my heart,
inside the harp of my wrists,
the sweet meat of the mango,
in the gold that dangles
from my ears and neck.

Say my name. Say it.
The way it’s supposed to be said.
I want to know that I knew you
even before I knew you.

— Sandra Cisneros, “Dulzura” (via oofpoetry)

The Good, Racist People →

(Source: rubytulips, via jessiepeterson)

Of everything I have seen,
it’s you I want to go on seeing:
of everything I’ve touched,
it’s your flesh I want to go on touching.
I love your orange laughter.
I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.

— Pablo Neruda  (via buddhacoffee)

(Source: vvolare, via scarylarry)

if it were just called White Girls i wouldn’t be so mad

You know, equality is a myth, and for some reason, everyone accepts the fact that women don’t make as much money as men do. I don’t understand that. Why do we have to take a backseat? I truly believe that women should be financially independent from their men. And let’s face it, money gives men the power to run the show. It gives men the power to define value. They define what’s sexy. And men define what’s feminine. It’s ridiculous.

— 

Beyonce Knowles dropping truth bombs in GQ Magazine | February 2013 (via hurrl-scout)

breaking news beyonce is perfect

(Source: grasstomyknees, via barf-faceoftheball)

I knew I was in trouble when all of my dreams were either about dying, or kissing you.

— Carrie Rudzinski, “Dreams”  (via beautyisanillusion)

(Source: prologueepilogue, via iflovebeblind)

You can’t find intimacy—you can’t find home—when you’re always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You running the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood.

— Junot Díaz (via lazyscranton)

(via bricorama)