Never have the stars felt so heavy above and I so small below that they steal the breath from my chest, spin me dizzy in their ethereality and curse me with their constellations.
the fairy tale.
It’s just that;
a tale, for fairies.
— Sylvia Plath, cited from a journal entry written on February 19th, 1956 (via kingofnewengland)
You remind me
If you died
I trace the fine pores of familiarity in your dusky hazel skin, and feel security in something about the way your veins flow across your muscles.
Strong, hardened hands delicate enough to capture and create; images, ideas. Wide, warm palms brave enough to keep a woman like me in balance.
Dark eyes like chocolate earth, coveted behind delicious lashes, blinking with thick flashes of wisdom far beyond my own. You possess the perfect symmetry between science and art.