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meng, 21. fine art/literature student living in Newtown, Sydney.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
— Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair (via writingwillows)

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

— Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII (via man-of-prose)
Source: man-of-prose

D E A T H     O F       D U A L I T Y

current mood.

current mood.

rebel rebel

rebel rebel