Muse 85: Shelter

found via jessgn

I loved his shoulder. Every time we sat next to each other, his shoulder was always in the corner of my eye like a boulder, a shadowy block that obstructed the sunset. I felt a crick grow in my neck and a strain that made my shoulders sore. And his shoulders looked so sturdy, so calm against the moving skies; I wanted to lean into it, rest my tired head while we sat still. I was a broken metronome failing to move to the beat, stuck on one end, but it was the good end. He moved into closer and I didn't have to struggle at all. Like a scoop to a spoon, a cheek in a palm, I closed my eyes and rested exactly where I wanted to be.

Muse 21: Beautiful

found via fffound

She was never beautiful, honey, she never was. Your mother was never beautiful but I fell in love with her anyway. Her mismatched socks and antique sense of style. Her dead locks of hair that had curls running wild. The way she smiled when the sun beamed on her face. The way she smiles - and when I looked, so clearly for the first time - that her clashing colors with the uncommonly striped sweater locked so perfectly in tune with mine. I make her beautiful, honey, and I am the only one that ever will. That is why we are perfect for each other still.

Muse 19: On Her Body

sources unknown

There is a secret on her body. A little hidden chamber resting between the deep navy shadows where the corners and crevices of her body contorts and curves into beautiful shapes. That little chamber is filled with a magical power. Unlock it and it's yours, only yours. Like the right hand corner kiss of a maiden's lips, she has taken the that secret, cupped it in her pastel milk hands and tucked it away like the hands stretching underneath a soft mattress, where the coolness has never left. Men die for it, kings conquer vast lands for it, fairy tales are achieved because of it. There is a secret on her body, it opens every time she is touched by you.

Muse 4: Coffin Ash

"Did you know," he said as they drove past the miles and miles of land scattered with tall trees - although there were more acres of emptiness than tree, "that once upon a time they did not bury people in coffins and gravestones? Yeah, even us, the ones who probably honor this grave tradition more than anyone else. But even in King Arthur's time they did not bury people in their own graves - no, they buried them under trees, and the trees became a symbol of memory, of life. Then I guess somewhere along the way, generations decided that they were too self-important to be put back into the ground, too important to decompose like all things should, and started to clear up the trees for burial ground, started to fill dead bodies with chemicals and unnatural things so they would be physically immortal in death. Then thousands of year later, we sit and wonder why the earth is dying, but we never give thought that maybe she is a giver, not a provider. So where is the provider now, when she has no more to give?"