Last chance

Last call. We’re late.
There is always a last minute chance, isn’t it?

Şi iar e vânt afară
Şi marea-o să mă doară

La source

Icy

With my lips

My tongue

I silently wrote on your skin our love story

You had no idea

why you’d get goosebumps at times.

Lovers’ sun

And I just want

To run to you

And I hope you know
That every time I don’t
I almost do.

Drift

if i believe
in death be sure
of this
it is

because you have loved me,
moon and sunset
stars and flowers
gold crescendo and silver muting

of seatides
i trusted not,
one night
when in my fingers

drooped your shining body
when my heart
sang between your perfect
breasts

darkness and beauty of stars
was on my mouth petals danced
against my eyes
and down

the singing reaches of
my soul
spoke
the green-

greeting pale-
departing irrevocable
sea
i knew thee death.

and when
i have offered up each fragrant
night,when all my days
shall have before a certain

face become
white
perfume
only,
from the ashes
then
thou wilt rise and thou
wilt come to her and brush

the mischief from her eyes and fold
her
mouth the new
flower with

thy unimaginable
wings,where dwells the breath
of all persisting stars

If I Believe, E.E. Cummings

Palette #R

 

I’ll let you be in my dreams

if I can be in yours.

 

T’es jolie

T’es sexy
T’es jolie

T’inquiète pas, y’a pas de galère
J’le dirais ni a ton père ni a ta mère
Ondule comme un ver de terre
Jette-moi dans les yeux
Ton regard de panthère

C’est comme une étincelle dans ton regard avide

La source

Remember this

Do you know how lovely you are in the moonlight, in the starlight of my heart?

 

 

She likes to be the fire

She likes to be the fire

She’s the hot lips that kiss

my ear

And the fingertips that sting

the hell out of my nerves.

She’s the oh so teasing voice

As she is the skin

That falls perfectly onto her wildest thoughts.

She’s the silence that reigns over me

when I’m daydreaming about

her queer nature.

She’s the one who crawls, the one who lingers

in my bed.

She’s the untamed burning eyes

refracting her lover

where she lays asleep

in her heart.

She’s the breath I feel

on my neck

sometimes at night

As she’s my spine when we’re talking pleasure.

She likes to be the fire.

 

Shadows

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

When You Are Old, William Butler Yeats

Photos: Johanna Rambla

The wait

I have a million things to talk to you about. A million things we have to talk about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning.

Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami

Photos: Thais Silvestre