cosmic diary

I offered Louis myself instead. What I am. My companionship. An immortal life. And I offered it to him…

Mary Oliver, What Do We Know: Poems and Prose Poems

• slides off the tongue, everyday i love you. over rushed early breakfast. said with a mouth half full of coffee. placed onto your cheek followed by a kiss.
• astounding, ‘i still can’t believe it’ i love you. the only thing you can think to say when she walks down the stairs wearing a new dress. whispering to yourself every night before bed when she’s brushing her teeth and smiling at you through the mirror.
• sleepy, foggy, i don’t know what loves feels like but i think this is it i love you. whispered at early hours of the morning, the room is still dark and swallows up the words before she hears them. when it’s 1am and you blurt it out but she’s already asleep in the passenger seat, and a little part of you wishes you said it earlier but another part of you is relieved.
• strangers know, and our neighbors are jealous i love you. shouted from the top of a mountain, I LOVE YOU being swayed from tree to tree. saying it over and over and over. the most important thing that will ever leave your mouth.

"We were a happy trio." Interview with the Vampire (2022-) 2.07 - I could not prevent it

“‘Do you fall in love often?’ Yes often. With a view, with a book, with a dog, a cat, with numbers, with friends, with complete strangers, with nothing at all.”

[text ID: I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar.]

“It’s summer now, and you’re craving a simpler existence. You want to read. You want to write. You want to meet strangers for dinner, and not refuse another drink at another bar. You want to dance. You want to find yourself in a basement, neck loose, bobbing your head as a group of musicians play, not because they should, but because they must. It’s summer now, and you’re looking forward to worrying less. You’re looking forward to longer nights and shorter days. You’re looking forward to gathering in back gardens and watching meat sputter on an open barbecue. You’re looking forward to laughing so hard your chest hurts and you feel light-headed. You’re looking forward to the safety in pleasure. You’re looking forward to forgetting, albeit briefly, the existential dread which plagues you, which tightens your chest, which pains your left side. You’re looking forward to forgetting that, leaving the house, you might not return intact. You’re looking forward to freedom, even if it is short, even if it might not last. You’re looking forward.”

“I want to sleep with you – to fall asleep and to sleep… Simply – sleep. And nothing further. No, also: to burrow my head into your left shoulder, my arm on your right shoulder – and nothing further. No, also: to know even in the deepest sleep that it is you. And also: to hear how your heart resounds. And – to kiss your heart.”