Unconditional love
Love always hangs up behind the bathroom door. It smells like lysol. To hell with love.

"the silver of my imagination
sometimes catches on fire from a word
and sometimes from the smell of salt
and I feel how under me
the ship shifts from foot to foot
and the ocean is immeasurable
without any coast
enclosed within the shell of wood
I am miraculously free
I love no one
and nothing"
— Halina Poświatowska (via clavicola)

(via 2x2m)



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