i want a word for the almost-home.

that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiar
that subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozing
that first glimpse of the skyline
that you never loved until you left it behind.

what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?
is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,
comfortably exhausted?

i need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,
for seeing your city on the horizon,
for flying homewards down your highway.

give me a word for the boundary
between the world you went to see
and the small one you call your own.

i want a word for the moment you know
you’re almost home.

there and back again, n.m.h. (via anoraborealis)

(via imfictional)

48,116 notes

Niña recostada sobre un perro (1873).

Mumford and Sons, the early years.

photo by almqvist

(by Alexandra Cameron)

Yumi Lambert photographed by Hart + Lëshkina for Tank Magazine, Fall-Winter 2014.


There is no good and evil there is only power

I swear to god I tried to scroll.