Your hands were delivered with the mail like postcards. There was nothing written on them,
but I knew they had come from somewhere far away, because all the fingernails were painted
like stamps. I looked at the backs of your hands as if they were landscapes and tried to enjoy
the sunset of your skin and riverbed veins, but could only wonder why we don’t have a word
for the backs of our hands. I think I put them in a drawer somewhere. Then they appeared
in our glove basket, so I put them on. I punched one hand into the other, staring into
the foyer mirror. I was in a movie about to beat someone up real bad, but I didn’t actually
have to, it was just a movie. My face looked incredible in the mirror, and I said, Inside
all our hands are smaller, more evil ones, even though you aren’t supposed to say anything
true in a movie.
listen to this-angel olsen’s voice will pierce your heart
"We just came back from a concert. She crowd surfed twice! She lost her wallet, but we found a Nintendo DS!"
|—||Henry David Thoreau, Journal Entry: December 25, 1856 (via dreamslow) <3 <3 <3|
Poets and their homes
From the Summer Art Clubs that Day Job curated at Peckham Space. I designed this placemat that visitors could colour in with their favourite foods! This is a small selection of ‘em…
My boyfriend and I got Savannah ghost tattoos for our 5 year anniversary. We recently moved but miss Savannah dearly.
By Dean Denney at Anonymous Tattoo in Savannah, GA.