“What a pure and intimate thing – to be reading the words of another.”

Don’t just scratch my surface make my entire soul purr.

From opal mornings to indigo nights I think about you, all the time.

I want to kiss you so much it hurts and I want to caress your skin until it no longer does.

Autumn makes us pull up our feet and curl up with our hearts.

You calm my soul and set it on fire at the same time.

I don’t even have to read between my own line, the poetry speaks so loud and a little too clear.

Brushing teeth swallowing held back tears, this is not how we are supposed to be.

You know what would be hot? To get loved before you get fucked.

Even pretty words turn into ash while pouring out of an ugly mouth.

I want to see you naked stripped bare yourself in front of me and then you can take your clothes off.

All these candles unlit perhaps they too need to breathe you.

She won’t settle for being just another girl on your feed you know.

What about us who would like a piece of the soul served as an aperitif before we dig into flesh?

I want to see our demons complement each other for the rest of our lives.

What if last time felt so beautiful simply because it actually was our last time?

I know my worth it shouldn’t have to slap me in the face though.

Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction.

The worst thing about new books is that they keep us from reading the old ones.

My idea of a delicious time is to read a book that is wonderful. But the ruling passion of my life is being a seeker after truth and the divine.

All I know is just what I read in the papers, and that’s an alibi for my ignorance.

I am not well read, but when I do read, I read well.

She read books as one would breathe air, to fill up and live.

Self-education is an essential part of any anti-racist journey, and reading has always been a huge part of my personal learning.

Be with someone who can read your silence.