I think that by beauty, you don’t just mean something that’s pretty. You mean something that makes us human.
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.
Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It's all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is self portrait. Everything is diary.
in order to fall asleep
i have to imagine your body
crooked behind me
spoon ladled into spoon
till i can hear your breath
i have to recite your name
till you answer and
we have a conversation
only then
can my mind
driff off to sleep
What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all me free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutal addiction.
When I say, I love you, it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with the perfect clarity exactly what you are.
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