L Ø V E
A collection of songs that would have been given to my significant other on a 1970s compact cassette tape if: a) it were the 1970s or b) I had a significant other.
1. First Love - The Maccabees
2. West Coast - Coconut Records
3. I Belong In Your Arms - Chairlift
4. Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys
5. Interlude (That's Love) - Chance the Rapper
6. Melrose - Childish Gambino
7. Latch (Acoustic) - Sam Smith
8. Not Enough - Carousel
9. I Would Die 4 V - CHVRCHES
10. For Emma - Bon Iver
11. Romanticise - Chela
12. Riptide - Vance Joy
13. Constant Conversations - Passion Pit
14. Love, Love, Love - As Tall As Lions
15. Hold On When You Get Love and Let Go When You Give It - Stars
16. Eyes - Rogue Wave
Omg 600 views!! A massive thank you to everyone and anyone who took their time to watch this video. Your support honestly means the world to me. Thank you thank you thank you! (:
Check it out!
I. This morning is blue. The floors creak and the kitchen appliances hum outside our room to accompany your gentle breathing. I’m looking at you and you look back at me with your eyes shut. You’re still asleep, and you make me forget that I’m breathing too. These quiet sounds speak a language meant for people who spend too many hours alone at home with the sound of a pin drop. Last night’s faded vignettes of innocent touching replay in reality. I can see where we held each other, where our fingers and lips blushed against the soft spots of our skins, and where we counted our breaths and heartbeats. Your alarm interrupts this, and you think we both wake up at the same time. The forecast says it’s going to be cold, and so, I hand you my coat because I always wore thicker ones out of insecurity. In a way, you were one of my coats, probably my favorite. “Stay warm,” I hug you goodbye.
II. This morning looks a certain blue that reminds me of the blanket you had as an infant. I felt a stone grow cold in my throat. I remember last night’s lovemaking came to a halt. You can kiss with your lips, and you can kiss with your noses. You can kiss in different languages, and you kissed me in the language you grew up with. I kissed you back in the language I learned in high school because I hated high school. You allowed me to turn that hate into passion. Last night’s lovemaking came to a halt because I remembered something from my childhood. I remember being told that Santa Claus didn’t exist. An elementary school bully told me. I ran home crying asking my parents if this was true. “This is true,” they said, and I felt the world shatter from within me. I was so sure of his existence, like I was so sure that my parents would live forever. But like anything else, they die with time. The rain speaks to us in Morse code on the window pane. You get up to leave for work, and before you walk out the door, I plant kisses on your forehead and cheek with a mouth moist of “I love you’s”. “Stay dry,” I kiss you goodbye.
III. This morning I don’t want you to go to work. I cling on to you like I did to my mother’s black dress when my grandfather’s coffin descended 6 feet under. Just as tightly, except this was out of love, not sorrow. “Just stay,” I say, tracing your name on your chest to remind you of love’s mortality, and your own too.
— Asking You to Stay in Three Installments (shotdownartist)
Floral patterns inside the shrine of Hazrat Masoumeh, Qom, Iran
Frisco Depot (Mickey Newbury) | Angel Olsen and Marissa Nadler