Emily Dickinson

That Love is all there is,
Is all we know of Love;
It is enough, the freight should be
Proportioned to the groove.

(no subject)

Paint my face in your magazines
Make it look whiter than it seems
Paint me over with your dreams
Shove away my ethnicity
Burn every notion that I may have a flame inside to fight
And say just what is on my mind
Without offending your might