Mrenoir Nude Leaks

my favorite shorts might be yours too [oc]

My favorite shorts might be yours too [oc]

are you gonna help me? [oc]

are you gonna help me? [oc]

“to build up a library is to create a life. it’s never just a random collection of books.

“To build up a library is to create a life. It’s never just a random collection of books."

“there are too many books i haven’t read, too many places i haven’t seen, too many memories i haven’t kept long enough.”

“There are too many books I haven’t read, too many places I haven’t seen, too many memories I haven’t kept long enough.”

poetry is the way i (f)uck you when you’re gone

Poetry is the way I (f)uck you when you’re gone

“and i’m building memories on things we have not said...”

“and I’m building memories on things we have not said...”

“melancholy is a sensual pleasure that is deliberately provoked. how many people shut themselves away to make themselves sadder, or to weep beside a stream, or choose a sentimental book! we are constantly building and unbuilding ourselves.”

“Melancholy is a sensual pleasure that is deliberately provoked. How many people shut themselves away to make themselves sadder, or to weep beside a stream, or choose a sentimental book! We are constantly building and unbuilding ourselves.”

first post here đź–¤

first post here đź–¤

“my face is red from reading your red lips…”

“my face is red from reading your red lips…”

read me your favorite book

read me your favorite book

“i’m the space between what i’d like to be and what others made o[f] me.”

“I’m the space between what I’d like to be and what others made o[f] me.”

“every book is an image of solitude. it is a tangible object that one can pick up, put down, open, and close, and its words represent many months, if not many years, of one man’s solitude...”

“Every book is an image of solitude. It is a tangible object that one can pick up, put down, open, and close, and its words represent many months, if not many years, of one man’s solitude...”

“take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you” [oc]

“Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you” [oc]

"nothing can match in lenght those limping, dreary days..."

do you like my skirt?

do you like my skirt?

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