Neil Gaiman: PULP ROMANCE →
He saw her across a crowded shelf. Her deckle-edge was seductively deep, her endpapers velvety. She was a first edition, probably autographed. Any man would want to write his name in a book like her. She noticed him perusing her pages, and blushed. He had a hard…
Alun Lewis, "Postscript: For Gweno"
sharingpoetry: If I should go away, Beloved, do not say ‘He has forgotten me’. For you abide, A singing rib within my dreaming side; You always stay. And in the mad tormented valley Where blood and hunger rally And Death the wild beast is uncaught, untamed, Our soul withstands the terror And has its quiet honour Among the glittering stars your voices named. (submitted by ifellowedsleep)