PorcelainTears
@porcelaintear.bsky.social
Playful @'ter, Ꭶtubborn, poetic, daydreamer,unpredictable, puddle splasher, tiptoe'r, arse pincher, daisy lover, sassy & classy. Profoundly mad & Portuguese.©
📚words tucked between lines-
📚words tucked between lines-
A few feet away,
daisies and sunflowers bloom—
Maria's smile drifts
I see her walking
through woodwinds and blades of grass
down to the seashore
Time stands ever still
in the sunshine of her life—
I miss Maria
#Amwriting #haiku
daisies and sunflowers bloom—
Maria's smile drifts
I see her walking
through woodwinds and blades of grass
down to the seashore
Time stands ever still
in the sunshine of her life—
I miss Maria
#Amwriting #haiku
August 3, 2025 at 6:44 AM
A few feet away,
daisies and sunflowers bloom—
Maria's smile drifts
I see her walking
through woodwinds and blades of grass
down to the seashore
Time stands ever still
in the sunshine of her life—
I miss Maria
#Amwriting #haiku
daisies and sunflowers bloom—
Maria's smile drifts
I see her walking
through woodwinds and blades of grass
down to the seashore
Time stands ever still
in the sunshine of her life—
I miss Maria
#Amwriting #haiku
He is the one that drowns
in sunsets and books,
and all the storms in your eyes,
the one that slows down in rain
just to kiss the drops on your lips
rests his head on your lap
on those long winter nights,
and squeezes your hand on
a Sunday's summer walk
#Amwriting #Poetry #Romance
in sunsets and books,
and all the storms in your eyes,
the one that slows down in rain
just to kiss the drops on your lips
rests his head on your lap
on those long winter nights,
and squeezes your hand on
a Sunday's summer walk
#Amwriting #Poetry #Romance
August 3, 2025 at 4:18 AM
He is the one that drowns
in sunsets and books,
and all the storms in your eyes,
the one that slows down in rain
just to kiss the drops on your lips
rests his head on your lap
on those long winter nights,
and squeezes your hand on
a Sunday's summer walk
#Amwriting #Poetry #Romance
in sunsets and books,
and all the storms in your eyes,
the one that slows down in rain
just to kiss the drops on your lips
rests his head on your lap
on those long winter nights,
and squeezes your hand on
a Sunday's summer walk
#Amwriting #Poetry #Romance
August 3, 2025 at 4:15 AM
Dearest Isabel,
In a few days I leave Bermuda
and meet you in the heart of
the garden, where I am happiest
loving you among the daisies
and the roses in your hair
The air is dull until I kiss those
sweet lips beneath star by star
in the sapphire sky.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
In a few days I leave Bermuda
and meet you in the heart of
the garden, where I am happiest
loving you among the daisies
and the roses in your hair
The air is dull until I kiss those
sweet lips beneath star by star
in the sapphire sky.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
August 3, 2025 at 4:12 AM
Dearest Isabel,
In a few days I leave Bermuda
and meet you in the heart of
the garden, where I am happiest
loving you among the daisies
and the roses in your hair
The air is dull until I kiss those
sweet lips beneath star by star
in the sapphire sky.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
In a few days I leave Bermuda
and meet you in the heart of
the garden, where I am happiest
loving you among the daisies
and the roses in your hair
The air is dull until I kiss those
sweet lips beneath star by star
in the sapphire sky.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
My dear Isabel,
The days have become shorter, the chill bites the air
and as I'm walking back through the apple trees,
I think of that time the curve of your hip leaned
against the cinnamon bark and with your book
held so close, I felt a pang of envy.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
The days have become shorter, the chill bites the air
and as I'm walking back through the apple trees,
I think of that time the curve of your hip leaned
against the cinnamon bark and with your book
held so close, I felt a pang of envy.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
August 3, 2025 at 4:10 AM
My dear Isabel,
The days have become shorter, the chill bites the air
and as I'm walking back through the apple trees,
I think of that time the curve of your hip leaned
against the cinnamon bark and with your book
held so close, I felt a pang of envy.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
The days have become shorter, the chill bites the air
and as I'm walking back through the apple trees,
I think of that time the curve of your hip leaned
against the cinnamon bark and with your book
held so close, I felt a pang of envy.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
Dearest Isabel,
Everything pulsing outside this window
reminds me of you. When I hear the wind
whispering along shutters and verandas,
the cloths on cafe tables, I think of autumn
through your hair, envision your glistening pearl
skin below the moon.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
Everything pulsing outside this window
reminds me of you. When I hear the wind
whispering along shutters and verandas,
the cloths on cafe tables, I think of autumn
through your hair, envision your glistening pearl
skin below the moon.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
August 3, 2025 at 4:09 AM
Dearest Isabel,
Everything pulsing outside this window
reminds me of you. When I hear the wind
whispering along shutters and verandas,
the cloths on cafe tables, I think of autumn
through your hair, envision your glistening pearl
skin below the moon.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
Everything pulsing outside this window
reminds me of you. When I hear the wind
whispering along shutters and verandas,
the cloths on cafe tables, I think of autumn
through your hair, envision your glistening pearl
skin below the moon.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
Dear Isabel,
I cannot always bear this beautiful quiet,
not when I see you in the breath of flowers,
in the rain drops slowly gathering
on the window frame. I feel the wind on my skin
and remember the tenderness in your touch,
delicate and summer-warm.
Isabel, my pulse aches.
#LettersToIsabel
I cannot always bear this beautiful quiet,
not when I see you in the breath of flowers,
in the rain drops slowly gathering
on the window frame. I feel the wind on my skin
and remember the tenderness in your touch,
delicate and summer-warm.
Isabel, my pulse aches.
#LettersToIsabel
August 3, 2025 at 4:08 AM
Dear Isabel,
I cannot always bear this beautiful quiet,
not when I see you in the breath of flowers,
in the rain drops slowly gathering
on the window frame. I feel the wind on my skin
and remember the tenderness in your touch,
delicate and summer-warm.
Isabel, my pulse aches.
#LettersToIsabel
I cannot always bear this beautiful quiet,
not when I see you in the breath of flowers,
in the rain drops slowly gathering
on the window frame. I feel the wind on my skin
and remember the tenderness in your touch,
delicate and summer-warm.
Isabel, my pulse aches.
#LettersToIsabel
Dearest Isabel,
I'm sitting between tables,
staring at the hours split apart
the shadow-wrinkled light,
I don't care for the mysteries
on these walls, or the cold
meal on my plate, or the visitors
that have come and gone
I miss you beyond anything
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
I'm sitting between tables,
staring at the hours split apart
the shadow-wrinkled light,
I don't care for the mysteries
on these walls, or the cold
meal on my plate, or the visitors
that have come and gone
I miss you beyond anything
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
August 3, 2025 at 4:07 AM
Dearest Isabel,
I'm sitting between tables,
staring at the hours split apart
the shadow-wrinkled light,
I don't care for the mysteries
on these walls, or the cold
meal on my plate, or the visitors
that have come and gone
I miss you beyond anything
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
I'm sitting between tables,
staring at the hours split apart
the shadow-wrinkled light,
I don't care for the mysteries
on these walls, or the cold
meal on my plate, or the visitors
that have come and gone
I miss you beyond anything
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
My dear Isabel,
I find your shadow along
the mist and dust,
anywhere I pause
I think of you between doorways,
windows, damp with rain
and when I lean beside this bridge,
I feel my heart plunging.
My soul is a wave
you catch with your arms
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
I find your shadow along
the mist and dust,
anywhere I pause
I think of you between doorways,
windows, damp with rain
and when I lean beside this bridge,
I feel my heart plunging.
My soul is a wave
you catch with your arms
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
August 3, 2025 at 4:06 AM
My dear Isabel,
I find your shadow along
the mist and dust,
anywhere I pause
I think of you between doorways,
windows, damp with rain
and when I lean beside this bridge,
I feel my heart plunging.
My soul is a wave
you catch with your arms
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
I find your shadow along
the mist and dust,
anywhere I pause
I think of you between doorways,
windows, damp with rain
and when I lean beside this bridge,
I feel my heart plunging.
My soul is a wave
you catch with your arms
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
Dear Isabel,
This warm orange breeze caught my attention
and changed my thought, to remember the most
wonderful day where I was sitting in the shade
of the creek tree and your heart trailed along
on water, sparkled like a star had fallen—
I was in love.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
This warm orange breeze caught my attention
and changed my thought, to remember the most
wonderful day where I was sitting in the shade
of the creek tree and your heart trailed along
on water, sparkled like a star had fallen—
I was in love.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
August 3, 2025 at 4:04 AM
Dear Isabel,
This warm orange breeze caught my attention
and changed my thought, to remember the most
wonderful day where I was sitting in the shade
of the creek tree and your heart trailed along
on water, sparkled like a star had fallen—
I was in love.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
This warm orange breeze caught my attention
and changed my thought, to remember the most
wonderful day where I was sitting in the shade
of the creek tree and your heart trailed along
on water, sparkled like a star had fallen—
I was in love.
#Amwriting #LettersToIsabel #Romance
From time to time,
I'd like to return
to our quiet sidewalk
conversations
The violet Van Gogh sky
that lead us across
a spring dusted track
The vine-curling arched bridge
where we tangled our first kiss
with the restless stream under our feet
#amwriting #Poetry #ShapeOfThought
I'd like to return
to our quiet sidewalk
conversations
The violet Van Gogh sky
that lead us across
a spring dusted track
The vine-curling arched bridge
where we tangled our first kiss
with the restless stream under our feet
#amwriting #Poetry #ShapeOfThought
August 3, 2025 at 2:47 AM
From time to time,
I'd like to return
to our quiet sidewalk
conversations
The violet Van Gogh sky
that lead us across
a spring dusted track
The vine-curling arched bridge
where we tangled our first kiss
with the restless stream under our feet
#amwriting #Poetry #ShapeOfThought
I'd like to return
to our quiet sidewalk
conversations
The violet Van Gogh sky
that lead us across
a spring dusted track
The vine-curling arched bridge
where we tangled our first kiss
with the restless stream under our feet
#amwriting #Poetry #ShapeOfThought
Her sky is slow
passing lines
a soft voice
of many springs,
the breath of wonder
that strokes and spreads
a quilt of stories
It breaks her dawn,
splits the moon,
reflects the light
of all her compassed seasons
#amwriting #Poetry
passing lines
a soft voice
of many springs,
the breath of wonder
that strokes and spreads
a quilt of stories
It breaks her dawn,
splits the moon,
reflects the light
of all her compassed seasons
#amwriting #Poetry
August 3, 2025 at 2:41 AM
Her sky is slow
passing lines
a soft voice
of many springs,
the breath of wonder
that strokes and spreads
a quilt of stories
It breaks her dawn,
splits the moon,
reflects the light
of all her compassed seasons
#amwriting #Poetry
passing lines
a soft voice
of many springs,
the breath of wonder
that strokes and spreads
a quilt of stories
It breaks her dawn,
splits the moon,
reflects the light
of all her compassed seasons
#amwriting #Poetry
I am lost between the atlas of heaven and the perfect pearl raindrop, the spaces and lines that write stories in the heart of the sunflower meadow and the black stripe of the bumble bee wing.
#amwriting
#amwriting
August 3, 2025 at 2:17 AM
I am lost between the atlas of heaven and the perfect pearl raindrop, the spaces and lines that write stories in the heart of the sunflower meadow and the black stripe of the bumble bee wing.
#amwriting
#amwriting
a meaning filled view
the sound of life
coming and going
the first breath, the last
the calmer storm
the march of rippling waves
the humming harmony
evaporating moments
we wish would never cease
sands under our feet
sun-warmth on our faces
hearts pounding softer
and softer
#amwriting #Poetry
the sound of life
coming and going
the first breath, the last
the calmer storm
the march of rippling waves
the humming harmony
evaporating moments
we wish would never cease
sands under our feet
sun-warmth on our faces
hearts pounding softer
and softer
#amwriting #Poetry
August 3, 2025 at 1:18 AM
a meaning filled view
the sound of life
coming and going
the first breath, the last
the calmer storm
the march of rippling waves
the humming harmony
evaporating moments
we wish would never cease
sands under our feet
sun-warmth on our faces
hearts pounding softer
and softer
#amwriting #Poetry
the sound of life
coming and going
the first breath, the last
the calmer storm
the march of rippling waves
the humming harmony
evaporating moments
we wish would never cease
sands under our feet
sun-warmth on our faces
hearts pounding softer
and softer
#amwriting #Poetry
there is always a song
in the mist
in the petals of dahlias
and rosy calla lilies
in the lost bird looking for spring,
the piece of a lone puzzle
a doubt
a promise
the slipping of a hand
in another hand
below and above
every breath of air,
there is a song
#Amwriting #Poetry
in the mist
in the petals of dahlias
and rosy calla lilies
in the lost bird looking for spring,
the piece of a lone puzzle
a doubt
a promise
the slipping of a hand
in another hand
below and above
every breath of air,
there is a song
#Amwriting #Poetry
August 2, 2025 at 10:59 PM
there is always a song
in the mist
in the petals of dahlias
and rosy calla lilies
in the lost bird looking for spring,
the piece of a lone puzzle
a doubt
a promise
the slipping of a hand
in another hand
below and above
every breath of air,
there is a song
#Amwriting #Poetry
in the mist
in the petals of dahlias
and rosy calla lilies
in the lost bird looking for spring,
the piece of a lone puzzle
a doubt
a promise
the slipping of a hand
in another hand
below and above
every breath of air,
there is a song
#Amwriting #Poetry
Sun-kissed blossom
Perhaps there is a soft song
in the sun-kissed blossom that
tangles itself in the eye of a fragrant storm
I imagine it must be a splendid thing,
such as a small flower, searching for
nothing more than a drop of water
#Poetry
Perhaps there is a soft song
in the sun-kissed blossom that
tangles itself in the eye of a fragrant storm
I imagine it must be a splendid thing,
such as a small flower, searching for
nothing more than a drop of water
#Poetry
August 2, 2025 at 10:53 PM
Sun-kissed blossom
Perhaps there is a soft song
in the sun-kissed blossom that
tangles itself in the eye of a fragrant storm
I imagine it must be a splendid thing,
such as a small flower, searching for
nothing more than a drop of water
#Poetry
Perhaps there is a soft song
in the sun-kissed blossom that
tangles itself in the eye of a fragrant storm
I imagine it must be a splendid thing,
such as a small flower, searching for
nothing more than a drop of water
#Poetry
I want you to
whisper my name
over your scattered papers,
notebooks and lonely spaces
stained with poetry, thoughts
and your clever ideas
say it, when you tilt your head
in an angle intriguing to light,
when your mind wanders in the
heartstrings of bees and butterflies
under the pupil of the moon
whisper my name
over your scattered papers,
notebooks and lonely spaces
stained with poetry, thoughts
and your clever ideas
say it, when you tilt your head
in an angle intriguing to light,
when your mind wanders in the
heartstrings of bees and butterflies
under the pupil of the moon
August 2, 2025 at 10:48 PM
I want you to
whisper my name
over your scattered papers,
notebooks and lonely spaces
stained with poetry, thoughts
and your clever ideas
say it, when you tilt your head
in an angle intriguing to light,
when your mind wanders in the
heartstrings of bees and butterflies
under the pupil of the moon
whisper my name
over your scattered papers,
notebooks and lonely spaces
stained with poetry, thoughts
and your clever ideas
say it, when you tilt your head
in an angle intriguing to light,
when your mind wanders in the
heartstrings of bees and butterflies
under the pupil of the moon
The sun moves warmth around her,
curls like a cat on her lap,
settles feather-soft kisses on her wrists,
and sends a thousand drowning springs
under her skin, then once more,
a current of promises rise in her eyes.
#amwriting #Poetry
curls like a cat on her lap,
settles feather-soft kisses on her wrists,
and sends a thousand drowning springs
under her skin, then once more,
a current of promises rise in her eyes.
#amwriting #Poetry
August 2, 2025 at 10:34 PM
The sun moves warmth around her,
curls like a cat on her lap,
settles feather-soft kisses on her wrists,
and sends a thousand drowning springs
under her skin, then once more,
a current of promises rise in her eyes.
#amwriting #Poetry
curls like a cat on her lap,
settles feather-soft kisses on her wrists,
and sends a thousand drowning springs
under her skin, then once more,
a current of promises rise in her eyes.
#amwriting #Poetry
August 2, 2025 at 10:32 PM
A little of me is lost
in the splashes of rivers and seas,
in the flame of light
that moves in the spiraling
and likeness of shape
I fall in love, easily,
with everything i can catch
with my hands
and collect scarlet heartbeats
in the locket behind my ribcage
#ShapeOfThought #poetry
in the splashes of rivers and seas,
in the flame of light
that moves in the spiraling
and likeness of shape
I fall in love, easily,
with everything i can catch
with my hands
and collect scarlet heartbeats
in the locket behind my ribcage
#ShapeOfThought #poetry
August 2, 2025 at 3:40 PM
A little of me is lost
in the splashes of rivers and seas,
in the flame of light
that moves in the spiraling
and likeness of shape
I fall in love, easily,
with everything i can catch
with my hands
and collect scarlet heartbeats
in the locket behind my ribcage
#ShapeOfThought #poetry
in the splashes of rivers and seas,
in the flame of light
that moves in the spiraling
and likeness of shape
I fall in love, easily,
with everything i can catch
with my hands
and collect scarlet heartbeats
in the locket behind my ribcage
#ShapeOfThought #poetry
The pollution of
rebellious pronouns stirs
my belly something fierce.
#CoreOfLogic #RulesOfThought #PrinciplesOfTruth
rebellious pronouns stirs
my belly something fierce.
#CoreOfLogic #RulesOfThought #PrinciplesOfTruth
August 2, 2025 at 3:32 PM
The pollution of
rebellious pronouns stirs
my belly something fierce.
#CoreOfLogic #RulesOfThought #PrinciplesOfTruth
rebellious pronouns stirs
my belly something fierce.
#CoreOfLogic #RulesOfThought #PrinciplesOfTruth
How bitter the light
consumed by madness in the world,
where nothing seems familiar,
yesterdays without heartbeats
Even (drift)wood has nowhere to go,
and love letters have faded in pockets,
the sun is hazed with mischief
and the moon has lost its silver smile
consumed by madness in the world,
where nothing seems familiar,
yesterdays without heartbeats
Even (drift)wood has nowhere to go,
and love letters have faded in pockets,
the sun is hazed with mischief
and the moon has lost its silver smile
August 2, 2025 at 1:15 PM
How bitter the light
consumed by madness in the world,
where nothing seems familiar,
yesterdays without heartbeats
Even (drift)wood has nowhere to go,
and love letters have faded in pockets,
the sun is hazed with mischief
and the moon has lost its silver smile
consumed by madness in the world,
where nothing seems familiar,
yesterdays without heartbeats
Even (drift)wood has nowhere to go,
and love letters have faded in pockets,
the sun is hazed with mischief
and the moon has lost its silver smile
O' You world—
how dense your heart has become!
how dense your heart has become!
August 1, 2025 at 11:52 PM
O' You world—
how dense your heart has become!
how dense your heart has become!