Lovesick Fawna

writing. reading. loving. lovers' quarrels. pictures worth one thousand words. bad music. good poetry. cliche. one word answers. bad punctuation exceptwhenyoudoit. growing up. not growing older. thinking i've got it this time. i wish you could see me. reclusive little thing.

0 Notes & Comments

Just something I was thinking about today.

“Edie Sedgwick (1943-1971)”

I don’t know how she did it.Fire
She was shaking all over.
It took her hours to put her make-up on. But she did it.
Even the false eye-lashes.
She ordered gin with triplelimes. Then a limosine.
Everyone knew she was the real heroine of Blonde on Blonde.
oh it isn’t fair oh it isn’t fair how her ermine hair turned men around
she was white on white so blonde on blonde and her long long legshow
I used to beg  to dance with her but I never had a chance with her
oh it isn’t fairhow her ermine hair used to swing so nice used to cut the air
how all the men used to dance with her I never got a chance with her though
I really asked her down deep where you do really dreamin the mind reading love
I’d get inside her move and we’d turn around and she’d turn around and turn the head of everyone in town
her shaking shaking glittering bones
second blonde child after brian jones
oh it isn’t fair how I dreamed of her and she slept and she slept forever and I’ll never dance with her no never
she broke downlike a baby like a baby girl like a lady with ermine hair
oh it isn’t fair and I’d like to see her rise again
her white white bones with baby brian jones baby brian jones
like blushing baby dolls

-Patti Smith

45 Notes & Comments

(via tulletulle) I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see, I swallow immediately. Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike I am not cruel, only truthful – The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over.  Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me. Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

(via tulletulle)

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see, I swallow immediately.
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike
I am not cruel, only truthful –
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
 
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me.
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

0 Notes & Comments

Proenza Schouler Resort 2011 I still really need that sweater in my life. Should I about post what I love from Fashion Week next month?

Proenza Schouler Resort 2011

I still really need that sweater in my life.

Should I about post what I love from Fashion Week next month?