📯i'm 14 and i have a crush on my sister shes 18 and i cant stop thinking about her i can think of something that has nothing to do with her and in the end i start to think about her again is this normal?
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A male reader, anonymous, writes (11 December 2009):
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A male reader, anonymous, writes (27 November 2009):
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.In Italy
Give us the sun and give us love,
A western breeze on a sapphire sea,
Heaven below and heaven above,
Heaven for thee and me.
A western breeze to fan our sails
Lazily flapping against the mast,
Facing the ocean with rippling scales
Drawing to port at last,
As we hail our casa's whited walls,
Where olive-trees gemm'd with the fireflies' light
Stand fringing the groves whence Philomel calls
To the liquid soul of night.
And scents lie heavy upon the air,
From orange blossoms cloying the breath,
And a soothing hum that numbs the ear
Comes from the town beneath.
Till a mist creeps over the hill, shuts down
On our home's white walls and o'erhanging eaves,
And the nightingales hush as the distant town
Puts out her lights and leaves
The rest of the night to darkness and love
Consecrated to thee and me,
Whilst my world spins on about and above,
Centred in thee
🇺🇸 "I trust in the flag of the United States and the Republic that I will stand for an invisible state that is free and united in God.
😀 The Christian bar has been lwele the years of the chip of LGBTQ people + unxuse ukuba akwenqaba kwakhe ukwenza amakhekhe ukuze abantu badalule ushintsho lwakhe lobulili.
In 2021, theColorado company in TheDenver decided that Jack Phillips was racist The Fall Scardina around the world of international How to make cake to backpack cake in the country where it makes the last place of birthday cakes.
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Triton
I bet my body for my body. My sex becomes medical waste.
Somewhere an insurance agent checks the paperwork.
Purple orchids, yellow orchids, gifts.
A machine vacuums blood from the surgical site.
When the chaplain discreetly comes out to me, I confess.
I ask the nurse on the night shift, “Is that the Moon?”
The night before, my mother texted “Sorry, no.”
I blocked her number. I told only one of my blood sisters.
When asked what I wanted for breakfast, I said rice.
I used a spirometer to keep my lungs from collapsing.
I regretted not meditating with the chaplain.
I was told no. I was told no. No one stayed but nurses.
My surgeon loved how the flowers grew.
Summer had passed and I bore a new weight.
Written by Wystan Hugh (W H) Auden | September 1, 1939 I sit in one of the dives On Fifty-second Street Uncertain and afraid As the cle...
