Well you have to know its a beautiful poem then. I did have a dream last night and what you wrote meant a lot. Thank you for that and please keep writting.
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting stars, falling objects.
- Pablo Neruda
I hate summer
- Ernest Hemingway (via elancement)
- Aomame; 1Q84 - Haruki Murakami (via deberiasserungustodehelado)
In my dream last night
My mind was testing itself
To see if I could figure out what was wrong with it
And If I could, I would wake up
And I did
It was a very terrifying dream
after all this time