Faded Fantasy3 читателя тэги

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art! -

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing оn the new soft fallen mask

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors -

No -yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,

Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever -or else swoon to death.

My own, my own,

My own to touch, my own to taste and smell.

I will take the dark part

of your heart into my heart.

Perhaps we should love ourselves so fiercely, that when others see us they know exactly how it should be done.

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.

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.