"Variation on the Word Sleep"
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head
and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear
I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary
-Margaret Atwood
-- Margaret Atwood
148
(Source: , via afancyowl)
(Source: verluste, via iwantyouhere)
(Source: deplaisant, via ocean-fire)
Sleeping in the Ocean
Sometimes……I wish I wasn’t here
Sometimes reality is grey and painful and too loud on my ears,
And I want to escape.
I find myself saying, curled up in the fetal position: “I just want to go home.”
Then I open my eyes, and realize I am :(
So where can I go for this undisturbed silence? For quiet and warm colored, light refracting peace?
I wish I could lay at the bottom of the ocean, for years and years, and just sleep.
Buried beneath layers of tears and waves, this would be my greatest happiness.
Sleep
sleep
ssssshhhhhh…….
No words…….
Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal by Lord Alfred Tennyson
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.
(Source: mjonirpage, via afancyowl)
If I should ever drown….
it won’t be in self-doubt
nor pity
nor hatred
nor anger
nor in love not returned
But in beauty
(via iwantyouhere)
