Sometimes The Butterflies Hold Very Still And Hold Their Breath Waiting To Be Caught.

The crow tarot gets me. And today’s card gutted me entirely.

Why waste the potential of wishing for one night when you could create an everafter full of them? I think I’d take it over nothing, but it would just start the heart over in the yearning of it all. Of you. And I’m not sure I could survive that again. For the third time.

To feel the ache of the missing piece found, only to be ripped away again. And willingly? To find the answer to your call, the ebb to your flow? What delight.

What’s the point in limiting the dream to just a breath if it was only ever imaginary in the first place? Why not go all in and lose yourself in the madness you create in the late hours of your day? At least there I know we’re together. At least there we have a purpose, a reason for having been.

Otherwise - one night only serves to light a fire and watch it blaze to a temperature so hot it is doused to contain it. Then you stand and watch the embers struggle for oxygen, for life.

Oh to have a love who holds my heart the way he wants to hold my body.

Vitas Luckus (1943-1987) Together | About 1969 | Vintage print |

Oh how I tried

My inner introvert is screaming 😂😂😂

It seems the legend of the white raven has come to life on a coastal beach on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. These ravens are not albino, but leucitic, or lacking any of several different types of pigment (not simply melanin).

https://www.reshareworthy.com/white-ravens/

https://theoatmeal.com/comics/bad_decision

Seems legitimate.

Opium

If only