Gotta love Walt.

Song of Myself (excerpt)
Walt Whitman

5

Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or
      lecture, not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valvèd voice.

I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,
How you settled your head athwart my hips and ( Read more... )

An old friend (and former boyfriend) just sent me some old pics of myself, from the 1980s.

Why did I think I was ugly and fat???!!!


( Read more... )