Faded Fantasy3 читателя тэги
C/S/
Patroclus to Achilles
On the night of my death,
your despair was so loud
that I could hear it
clawing through the earth to find me.
All the men screaming, begging,
still could not drown out the
wailing of your hands.
I оnce held your soldier heart
between my war teeth, shook it
like a dog with a bone until
it knew the fear of good love.
Do you remember?
I wore your
armor just to feel deathless.
I wore your armor just to know
what it meant to be inside of you.
I will dream of kissing your ankles again,
of pulling the weeping arrow out of you
and cutting through the earth
so that we may walk among it.
My love. My life.
What I would give to be
the оnly pile of ashes here.
What I would give to be
a sleeping body beside you.
A/S/
Your hand found mine.
Life rushed to my fingers like a blood clot.
Oh, my carpenter,
the fingers are rebuilt.
They dance with yours.
They dance in the attic and in Vienna.
My hand is alive all over America.
Not even death will stop it,
death shedding her blood.
Nothing will stop it, for this is the kingdom
and the kingdom come.
R/F/
Perhaps we should love ourselves so fiercely, that when others see us they know exactly how it should be done.
N/G/
Nothing’s changed. You’ll go home. You’ll be bored. You’ll be ignored. No оne will listen to you, really listen to you. You’re too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don’t even get your name right.