in a hammock

I once travelled to the earth of your skin
and thought: we are all misguided travellers.
I know this, having walked through the
mountains of your shoulders, and having
drowned countlessly inside the sea of
your mouth. Your tongue is a solitary
island, and I am indeed a solitary man.
Also a misguided traveller, whose indecision
has led me to the cliffs of your elbows,
and down the long jump trajectory towards
the deep ocean floor of your toenails.
I reach no concrete destination, really,
but I am nothing but glad to be the one to
draw the map of your skin, and to build a compass
that would only point where your geography exists.

Petersen Vargas, “I Once Travelled to the Earth of Your Skin” (via swollenpoetry)

The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, its tides and its depths; it has its pearls too.

Vincent Van Gogh (via suntanintexas)

(Source: theburnthatkeepseverything, via theboywiththebeautifulhair)

Everything I’ve never done, I wanted to do with you.

William Chapman (via unmistakable-me)

(Source: williamchapmanwritings, via thesensualstarfish)