Hank Williams and his ex wife Audrey Sheppard, 1948, Montgomery Alabama.
I love everything about this picture, but I don’t know why.
Junot Díaz (via bornreadygeneration)
image of Princess Diana on a yacht in Portofino, Italy, in August 1997.
clear vodka in shapely bottles, angry men and the things
they carry. We have done what we could. They say
anything they can to justify leaving. That we are
always sad. That we have let our hearts burn out
for lesser things than them. They accuse us of being
too sad to love. We’re not sure where we’ve learned
this, to want the things we know we can’t have.
We put on a dress, any dress. Lick our black lips,
pin up our hair. We have learned to kiss boys
with our tongues in the dark. They say after,
there is fire in our breath when we sleep. Chances are,
we are all the same, riding high on velvet blue nights.
Our weaknesses have names and phone numbers,
addresses we can send anonymous letters to,
detailing our escape. We are praying for sixteen again,
for tulle and prom dresses and clear skin and boys
who still have to ask to hold our hands. They say
they can find us by our cheekbones, that they are
small, miraculous sources of light. We’re doomed
without our mothers. Sometimes we’re safe
but usually we’re not. The crime scene tape
should have been your first clue."
Kristina Haynes, “We Try to Love” (via fleurishes)
Asa Smith. Celestial Illustrations from Smith’s Illustrated Astronomy. 1851.
Contd from here