#naoki.

naoki.

                    love as tenderness:             [ love as gentleness after a lifetime of cruelty ]     when ocean vuong said     " sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined "    and when pablo neruda said      " like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar "    and when anais mitchell wrote    " all i've ever known is how to hold my own, and now i wanna hold you, too ”     

kinu.

                    love as being known:             [ love is knowing all of someone and loving them anyway ]      when tim kreider said      " if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known "    and when joe wright said     " The idea that these two people know each other, knew each other when they first saw each other. That they recognized each other from their future "     and when micah nemerever said       " it was a relief and a horror to be known so perfectly "

                               —————————————————————

                 ‘     eh...     y’mean that,   minnie?    ‘      it’s rare to be vulnerable,    the two knew rather well.      a brush of lips against battered skin,     a canvas in waiting.     a hum of a song long forgotten to time,     melodies left in a distant memory,     hum of bluebirds and the spring breeze.     the painting that lay in front of the two was a mirror of unforgiveness,      remembered behind closed eyes...    damning evidence lay before them,     inching realization of a life coated with blood so thick...      it could be mistaken for paint.      so just ignore it,    ignore it.

                  a hush of his name lingers upon scarred tiers,         ‘    sungmin,     y’look happy though...     or well,    i can kinda tell...    ‘     a gentle gaze like the setting sun lingers behind own hair,      holding the other much more closer against his chest.      a heartbeat tells the truth,     even if it’s faint,    lingering like butterfly wings.      naoki’s head resting on a broad shoulder,    nuzzling faintly into brown streaks.      ‘   if you want me to let go...    i can,    but for some reason,     i think y’need it...   ‘

La plupart du temps, je me demande ce que j’attends. De moi, des autres ou de la vie dans sa généralité. Au final, je crois que je ressens simplement une grande lassitude. Une profonde, et froide, lassitude. Je doute, en fait, même, d’attendre quoi que ce soit. Ces dernières années, j’ai tant et tant patienté que quelque chose arrive, que moi-même j’en vienne à bousculer ma vie. Mais rien ne m’a transcendé comme ça arrive parfois aux plus chanceux.