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So many men and all of them the same where it counts

Iktr

The fairytale castle collapsed into the mud and sand on which it’s vanity was built

“There were glorious mornings of sun at the shore, cool evenings, holding hands in the park anticipation of the sexual choreography they would perform in every nook of her apartment. Sober as priests, creative as devils, they invented sex. So they believed.”

There’s a teardrop in my eye. My one eye. The left one.

Booker was the only person she was able to confront – which was the same as confronting herself, standing up for herself. Was she worth something? Anything

yeah man

The sun merely hinted at its rise, an apricot sliced teasing the Sky with a promise of revealing It’s whole self.

Trying to seduce your “best friends” man… Brooklyn you are one weird bitch

“Before I see his face, his arms are on my waist, my back to his chest, his chin in my hair. Then his hands are on my stomach and I am dropping mine hold onto his while we dance back to front. When the music stops I turn around and look at him he smiles. I am wet and shivering. Before I leave the park, I fingered the bristles of the shaving brush. They are soft and warm.”

sigh

“I stroked every inch of his golden skin sucked his earlobes. I know the quality of his hair and his armpit; I fingered the dimple in his upper lip; I poured a red wine in his navel and drink it spill. There’s no place on my body his lips did not turn into bolts of lightning.”

Bitch poetry 😭

enjoying

Mrs Huxley what’s up w you girl

“The blackboard’s black surface was an exact replica of our minds. We knew little, and the little that we knew came out haltingly”

“Unfortunately I couldn’t find a stone to throw at her, but I made a resolution to take care of that matter later.”

“Don’t you have a hole in your stomach? I could stable an ox in mine.”

im stealing that.

“What crossed my mind— so many things were always crossing it— was more fleeting and less enduring than the clouds which cords the sky.”

Tell me about it 😭

I was near them, part of them. I was not entirely one of them

He’s like a bird, never in the same place, can’t stay on one tree. He needs the whole sky.

The mystery of things, their how and why, conduces to silence. It is enough for such men to observe things and recognize their impenetrability. You can see this state of mind reflected in their eyes.

…

He remained preoccupied, still in that reverie which he indulged in endlessly in the fields.

“I imagined I know not what mysterious conversations, the hand inquired, and the tremor replied…”

Regarding the relationship of his dad and the little black snake. I love the way this was written! The imagery

“What was the right path for me? Did I know yet where that path lay? My perplexity was boundless as the sky and mine was a sky alas, without any stars.”

Nostalgia Negra is for all the fat darkskinned girls out there

Self-Portrait on the Anniversary of His Death
:(((

“Wait for him to come back to his senses. If he doesn’t wait anyway: to act would be rash; to act would be unwise. Wait for the storm to settle, wait to talk to someone — a therapist, a BFF, a good divorce lawyer even.

Wait before wading into the deep pool of regret”

Mmmmmmmm

“like her mother, she hated to be alone”

oh man 😔😔😔 im done

ALAIN THE PRESIDENT IS NOT BACKING DOWN😭😭😭😭omg

the President of the US of A said is sending me

A few years ago, the President had met the president of Benin on his way out. He walked funny what rotten luck could’ve happened to his country to force him to submit to such a gangbang?”
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“ It’s not bad luck, Haitians had always figured life was just hard, absurdly so”

Lord 😔 free my people bro

“People around the world tended to presume the dead were innocent, or that each death with its complete finality deserve our pity, even sympathy because a dead bastard, even though he was a bastard is after all, still dead, dealing with a great unknown of fate reinforcing our core belief that no one deserves to die, especially us”

literally like no it’s still f him who cares if he died 😭

“Alain… evolved into a dull and curmudgeonly pothead after the earthquake. ‘If I had any talent for music I’d be on my way to a Haitian Bob Marley right now,’ he wrote to Natasha and his diary one afternoon”

Loool

“I can feel his soul’s glow within my own. It burns in our world still. If it had been extinguished, I would know. Because we are one, two side sides of the same coin, alpha and omega. one true love”
thisssss this passion is just sockcncdjdn I CANR HOLD IT BACK ANYMORE. it’s coming out of me like that one wolf photo.