i wrote half an essay in 20mins today when it’s not even due for another 4 weeks, reblog this to have a productivity lightning bolt strike you like it did me today
"If the blue morning held in the glass of the window,
if my fingers, my palms. If my thighs.
If your hands, if my thighs.
If the seeds, among all the lost gold of the grass.
If your hands on my thighs, if your tongue.
If the leaves. If the singing fell upward. If grief.
For a moment if singing and grief.
If the blue of the body fell upward, out of our hands.
If the morning held it like leaves."
-Jane Hirshfield, from “If the Rise of the Fish,” in The Lives of the Heart (via endless-unfolding)
