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Aja Monet

Exile

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wwnorton: My hands have not touched pleasure since your hands, —No, — nor my lips freed laughter since ‘farewell’,And with the day, distance again expandsVoiceless between us, as an uncoiled shell.Yet, love endures, though starving and alone.A dove’s wings clung about my heart each nightWith surging gentleness, and the blue stoneSet in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright. -Hart Crane
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poem

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gold street If your version  forgets to mention the girls shedding skin             beneath duvets, a top names of  those who’ve come before this stain willing  more than wanting i n v e s t i gate    the weeping boy in your shoulders—frankly   you have been wanted      unnaturally in showers of apartments by Gare du Nordbathing your scent onto memoryunder shifting skies  faucets running a soundtrack for your  telepathic seduction.  her chest is a wall of post cards all…
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jackiesface: For all the D’Angelo fans wondering how he and I fell in love. (Source: http://www.tumblr.com/)

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3KmXd8Y2LPE “this must be deep.” i’ve been playin gil non stop this whole month. in honor of his memory. with love. an ode. (Source: http://www.youtube.com/)

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