Posted 1 week ago
When I touch her, my fingers don’t question what she is. My body knows who she is. The strange thing about strangers is that they are unknown and known. There is a pattern to her, a shape I understand, a private geometry that numbers mine. She is a maze where I got lost years ago, and now find the way out. She is the missing map. She is the place that I am. She is a stranger. She is the strange that I am beginning to love.
The Stone Gods, Jeanette Winterson (via helplesslyamazed)

(Source: quote-book)

Posted 3 weeks ago
Posted 3 weeks ago
Posted 3 weeks ago
Posted 3 weeks ago
Posted 3 weeks ago
Posted 3 weeks ago
Posted 4 weeks ago
Posted 4 weeks ago
Posted 4 weeks ago
Posted 4 weeks ago
Posted 1 month ago
Posted 1 month ago
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

(Source: wefoundthesea)

Posted 1 month ago
Posted 2 months ago