your heart will become a dusty piano in the basement of a church and she will play you when no one is looking. now you understand why it’s called an organ. —rudy francisco {like every other man}

anahita.

i am a hopeless romantic whose enduring dream is to dwell in geneva and fall in love with an ill-humored man who laughs at all my terrible attempts at jokes.

words in foreign languages, knitted scarves, red lipstick, fairy lights, architecture, piano concertos, high ceilings, vanilla, old books, hot air balloons ︎ ︎