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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“I desire very little, but the things I do consume me.” ~Beau Taplin
“Let me love you goodbye, then.”
Compartmentalizing had a way of catching up with you,
“The presence of sun and stars is conflicting.” “Yet there they are,”
“You being territorial over me feeds my need to be loved or some shit.”
“The mouth and the heart are connected. That’s why words hurt. I’d never give either to anyone but you.”
believed maturity mended the imperceptible fractures of our hearts that couldn’t be physically touched or seen under a microscope. That I’d hit this magic age and poof, suddenly it would all make perfect fucking sense, and life wouldn’t hurt so bad.
“Because love doesn’t waver with moods, Clint. It doesn’t question or doubt its existence. It isn’t based on whether or not the world around it will be accepting. And it doesn’t only want its presence felt when it needs something to fuck!
Tattoos weren’t like T-shirts, you couldn’t just get one from anywhere, and folks would travel, go out of their way for a good ink job.
He used to smell like nicotine, fire, and mint. Now he smelled like sun, moon, and stars, all things that were promised to return. He smelled like second chances.
“This is what love should look like,” he whispered into my mouth. “This is what love should feel like,” I returned. “Home,” we said in unison. Love should feel like home…
