The way I remember it,
there was a fountain in your mouth
and I was promised eternity but
maybe I didn’t drink deep enough

I believe, even now
that I came from you
or you from me
and some jealous god
split us in twain
so we would die alone

heaven knows you stopped listening
to what I have to say, but
I would still take a rib from my chest
and plant it in the ground
on the chance you might grow from it
and love me again

"  - myth, wesley king (via bombsinyourbones)

he is very fond of humans

Don’t get so holy on me, James. This town called you, too. You and me are the same. We’re not like other people. Don’t you know that?


Michael Cinco Haute Couture F/W 2011.