Precious Bodily Fluids

dylanstillwrites:

For Those Who Can Still Ride In Airplanes For The First Time, Anis Mojgani

My fingers, they open up like gates when I type and the wind is swinging in the wake.
I lift bridges with poems and forests grow in my mother’s eyes.
“I am looking for God, Quentin.”
“While this world says “fuck you” for trying.
For this world hates your eyes, Quentin.
For they are simple and pure.
And this world hates your fingers, Quentin, little like the stems of flowers.
For not being able to pick up the things you have left behind, because you are still learning to do so.
I don’t drink, fight, or fuck but these days it’s only two out of those three I don’t do, Quentin.

(via kileyroseatkins)