( via/ me )

Dark plume of plasma.

“Little Grey Dreams

Little grey dreams,
I sit at the ocean’s edge,
At the grey ocean’s edge,
With you in my lap.

I launch you, one by one,
And one by one,
Little grey dreams,
Under the grey, grey, clouds,
Out on the grey, grey, sea,
You go sailing away,
From my empty lap,
Little grey dreams.

Sailing! Sailing!
Into the black,
At the horizon’s edge.”

—Angelina Weld Grimké via poets.org

Was It Wrong.

“The source of all disorder was the loneliness of the jackal, God’s first- born.” –Marcel Griaule, 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑂𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑚𝑒̂𝑙𝑖 (1965)

I Am The Walrus.