I barely liked him.
But he was heat at the peak of summer,
and he kissed like I was his last meal—
And I was looking for a body to drown in.
Back then, I had a candy-coated heart,
like flowers tucked in the pages of a hymnal,
and he had the thick, calloused hands
of a working man.
He talked like a friend,
but touched like an animal
and my bubblegum chest wanted that
in ways it couldn’t understand yet.
He asked what colors I kissed in
and the poet in me cracked open and spilled over—
Exposed like an open wound,
like all the soft, pink parts of me
I didn’t know about.
He was a means to an end:
my Machiavellian loss of innocence.
I don’t regret him,
but sometimes I wish I did. "
By Silvia Grav, a truly extraordinary set of black & white photographs from the Madrid-based artist, that have such beautiful concepts behind each image. There has been a wave of incredibly talented photographers with a knack for surreal manipulations recently, and these are some of the best I’ve seen.
my entire life is me dropping things and whispering ‘fuck’
if u touch my thigh under a table in public u can bet ur sweet bippy that ur gonna be gettin some later.
that’s a shame
hahahaha oh ok anymore fun facts while you’re at it?