June 2010
2 posts
May 2010
6 posts
I
On n’est pas sérieux, quand on a dix-sept ans. - Un beau soir, foin des bocks et de la limonade, Des cafés tapageurs aux lustres éclatants ! - On va sous les tilleuls verts de la promenade.
Les tilleuls sentent bon dans les bons soirs de juin ! L’air est parfois si doux, qu’on ferme la paupière ; Le vent chargé de bruits - la ville n’est pas loin - ...
April 2010
19 posts
March 2010
66 posts
When I start thinking of my love for a person, I am in the habit of immediately...
– Nabokov
Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon, dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light, what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars? What primal night does Man touch with his senses? Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars, through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain: Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness. Kiss by kiss I cover your ...