Faded Fantasy3 читателя тэги

He took her into his arms again, using all his strength to be gentle, and let his lips touch hers so lightly he could hardly feel it.

But how do I show that nothing, not a taste, not a smell, not even the color of the sky has ever been as clear and sharp as it was when I belonged to him? I don’t know how to express that being with someone so dangerous was the last time I felt safe.

A glimpse through an interstice caught,

Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner,

Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,

A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,

There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.

The gap between compassion and surrender is love’s darkest, deepest region.

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.

I want you flat оn your back. Helpless, tender, open with оnly me to help. And then I want you strong again. You’re not going to die. You might wish you’re going to die, but you’re not going to. You need to settle down a little.