Faded Fantasy3 читателя тэги

Автор: Beramode


You can drag me through hell

if it meant I could hold your hand



Kiss me.

I am an odd geometry

of elbows and skin,

a lopsided symmetry of sin

and virtue. And you.

I can feel your eyes

burning over the horizon

of my shoulders.


What we share may be a lot like a traffic accident, but we do share it. We are survivors, of each other. We have been shark to оne another, but also lifeboat. That counts for something.


- Love isn't eternal.

- My sort of love is.


O white moon, you are lonely,

It is the same with me,

But we have the world to roam over,

Only the lonely are free.


I want to fall in love in such a way that the mere sight of a man, even a block away from me, will shake and pierce me, will weaken me, and make me tremble and soften.


That man to me seems equal to the gods,

the man who sits opposite you

and close by listens

to your sweet voice


and your enticing laughter—

that indeed has stirred up the heart in my breast.

For whenever I look at you even briefly

I can no longer say a single thing,


but my tongue is frozen in silence;

instantly a delicate flame runs beneath my skin;

with my eyes I see nothing;

my ears make a whirring noise.


A cold sweat covers me,

trembling seizes my body,

and I am greener than grass.

Lacking but little of death do I seem.


When I think of you,

fireflies in the marsh rise

like the soul's jewels,

lost to eternal longing,

abandoning my body


Don’t for heaven’s sake worry about ‘boring’ or ‘hurting’ me! I would very much rather you talked to me about what was оn your mind. If I ever felt you were putting up a cheerful facade it would be unbearable.

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