Erysichthon
Ladybugs in jars
Seaglass necklaces
Dried flowers
Red lipstick
Self-importance seeks simple sentience. Pulchritudinous prey to slaughter and parade
Why must we be entitled to beauty we aren’t worthy of, That isn’t ours to take?
If I strung you up next for my own vanity and took your voice, what would you do?
Deep down, we all just want love. Somebody to wake up next to, an extra glass loaded in the dishwasher—somebody to think of when you see their favourite colour on the bus. A growing lump of laundry while they cut your grass.
We are simple creatures who smile at flowers and blush at little compliments—infatuated with the tiny gestures and small mental notes. Love isn't a grand gesture; it’s somebody by your side. Sharing your woes while you lay your head on their shoulder and let them take the weight for a while. Because you have spent so long waiting for your grand love that when it comes, it’s a slice of heaven you can't afford to let go.
Living in harmony with somebody you’re breathing for now. Completing tax forms in our house with a wrap-around porch. The clock is ticking like music to our ears, but darling, you savour the moment and ask me to dance. This is what I’ve been longing for: eternal contentment and blissful vulnerability. Because deep down we all just want love.
3 ageing rooms and enough kegs to wipe out pelican town.