Свежие записи из блогов Beramode

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell. I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

There is more here,

in this оne

hug,

and I know

you know

it

even if

you will not

acknowledge it.

I

will never hold

anyone else

the same way

again.

It had been a slow and painful business, discovering that the theory of love did not match the reality of life. It was like expecting to be able to write a symphony because you had оnce read a handbook of composition.

When you are in love, you love every part of the body; when you are not in love there is always a part of the body you want to push away. When you are in love, after the desire is satisfied, you still love the body of the beloved. When you are not in love you want to push it away.

I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break.

I was put together wrong

Still I was made for you

When our stitches come undone

We come together like glue.

When you look at her,

She is another man’s blessing.

Il y a des gens qui parlent, qui parlent jusqu'à ce qu'ils aient enfin trouvé quelque chose à dire.