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a study of the moon
rainy day in paris // 2019
βAnd you are my sacred book. My poem.βΒ
Β β Umar Timol, from βBloodβ, translated by Susan Wicks
personal moodboard for @partialto
βIn your eyes you dearly hold all of nightβs allure / Oh you, Joy at the end of my solitude! / Your kisses as sweet as the sweetest fruits / And your voice lulling me like a dreamy prelude / Softly sung by the sea for nightβs beauty in bloom.β β RenΓ©e Vivien
what do you mean i canβt attend a mysterious but prestigious boarding school in the late sixties and make friends for life whilst falling in love with a stranger and hanging around in the libraries (all set to a dark indie soundtrack)?
Birds born in cages
Believe freedom is a crime
tired eyes and ink stained hands trail across the pages, as the rain-swept buildings nestle underneath the gloomy skies, and the poems of baudelaire pour from my heart.
ig: rosenaufsuden
Tomas Transtromer, from"Streets in Shanghaiβ Bright Scythe
βMy winter days are spent forgetting you.β