It is beautiful to have convictions*
(* but only if you can bleed for them, sing for them in that plasma and dance within the passion of the words that your tongue forms as they roll across your lips.)
(Source: harvestheart)
The smoke wraps itself around tonsils
and inflates lungs which spread tiny veins into newborn limbs
They stretch, sangria intoxicated love
I forget to exhale, like I always do
Someday soon I will be Juliet -
dressed in fabric so virginal the flowers can’t bloom
and encased in a mason jar on the highest shelf,
dust swirl snow globe shaken and stirred.
From The Shape of Your Tongue, Triny Finlay
(Source: wastedlight)