every 1st september we joke about getting ready for hogwarts to cover up the very real and very very deep scars of never getting our letters
Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor,
for the eternal idleness of the imagined return,
for rare flutes and bare feet, and the August bedroom
of tangled sheets and the Sunday salt, ah violin!
When I press summer dusks together, it is
a month of street accordions and sprinklers
laying the dust, small shadows running from me.
It is music opening and closing, Italia mia, on Bleecker,
ciao, Antonio, and the water-cries of children
tearing the rose-coloured sky in streams of paper;
it is dusk in the nostrils and the smell of water
down littered streets that lead you to no water,
and gathering islands and lemons in the mind.
There is the Hudson, like the sea aflame.
I would undress you in the summer heat,
and laugh and dry your damp flesh if you came.
—Derek Walcott, "Bleecker Street, Summer" (via commovente)
People talk about how hard long distance relationships are but nobody talks about the struggle of long distance friendships. I would give my left leg right now to just be able to sit in our pjs and watch movies or to just be able to give a big fucking hug.