built of fixation
(they like to choke)
all utensils fixed on you

I will hold you close, If your afraid of heights
I need you to see this place,
It might be the only way
that I can show you,
how it feels.

true lovers in each happening of their hearts
live longer than all which and every who;
despite what fear denies, what hope asserts,
what falsest both disprove by proving true

(all doubts, all certainties, as villains strive
and heroes through the mere’s mind poor pretend
- grim comics of duration: only love
immortally occurs beyond the mind)

such a forever is love’s any now
and her each here is such an everywhere,
even more true would truest lovers grow
if out of midnight dropped more suns than are

(yes; and if time should ask into his was
all shall, their eyes would never miss a yes)

- e. e. cummings

Mogwai.

“Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever… it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything.”

- Aaron Siskind

I’m waiting for a sign
I’ll stare straight into the sun
And I won’t close my eyes
Till I understand or go blind

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

- e. e. cummings

Under the blankets at night
Everything forgotten when your in sight
Don’t you see their envy