Tag: love

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;—
Petals on a wet, black bough.

– Ezra Pound

“’Ghosts,’ I said. ‘Ghosts are why we can’t make love.’”

– Doris Lessing, The Diaries of Jane Somers

I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you. And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane.

– Clementine von Radics, Mouthful of Forevers

What had he said to me that first day? Something about natural chemistry. He claimed he’d noticed it right from the start, and maybe it was an explanation, of sorts, of why we kept coming together, again and again.

– Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby