(photo by Simon Roberts)
(illustration by Ivan Bilibin from Russian Wondertales)
No map traces the street
Where those two sleepers are.
We have lost track of it.
They lie as if under water
In a blue, unchanging light,
The French window ajar
Curtained with yellow lace.
Through the narrow crack
Odors of wet earth rise.
The snail leaves a silver track;
Dark thickets hedge the house.
We take a backward look.
Among petals pale as death
And leaves steadfast in shape
They sleep on, mouth to mouth.
A White mist is going up.
The small green nostrils breathe,
And they turn in their sleep.
Ousted from that warm bed
We are a dream they dream.
Their eyelids keep the shade.
No harm can come to them.
We cast out skins and slide
Into another time.
This ever so cool illustration is by Caitlin Shearer
(please use these pictures!)
(Hope you like my collages, I encourage you to use them but please link me!)
(picture is my own scan, feel free to use it, but credit me if you remember!)
A stranger has come
To share my room in the house not right in the head,
A girl mad as birds
Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume.
Strait in the mazed bed
She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds
Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room,
At large as the dead,
Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.
She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall,
Possessed by the skies
She sleeps in the narrow trough yet she walks the dust
Yet raves at her will
On the madhouse boards worn thin by my walking tears.
And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.
(I can't credit the photos, as I don't know who the photographers are.. but.. would love to know, if you have any information...)
This edit from UK Elle magazine is going to be the starting point of my first regular feature. As 2011 is going to be the big career lift off year, I thought it about time that I shed my scruffy student attire, and think more about work-wear. (Of course, it will all be done on a shoe-string, as I am only a barely paid intern.) I am already the proud owner of the satchel featured, it was a birthday present.. one that will last me forever.
Hit the images for the links.
I hope you had a lovely Sunday afternoon. I try to always be at home around 4pm on a Sunday, in time for the only couple of totally guilt free, empty, alone hours of the week. I tend to light a scented candle and listen to the radio. It's the best time to think about the week just gone and the week ahead... Enjoy these quiet Sunday photos...(found at various locations on tumblr.)
