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Strange Deaths of the Last Romantic Quotes
Strange Deaths of the Last Romantic
by
Moses Yuriyvich Mikheyev77 ratings, 2.86 average rating, 49 reviews
Strange Deaths of the Last Romantic Quotes
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“Moonlight washing up against our fragile bodies
Stars collapsing from eager expectation
as I touch
taste
tremble
between passionate
mouthfuls of your truth.
A thousand misplaced kisses
and yet
only one of you.”
― Strange Deaths of the Last Romantic
Stars collapsing from eager expectation
as I touch
taste
tremble
between passionate
mouthfuls of your truth.
A thousand misplaced kisses
and yet
only one of you.”
― Strange Deaths of the Last Romantic
“I spent that night lying next to her in the cool of a summer breeze. I watched her drift and dream next to me, while I harnessed the weight of a thousand feelings alongside her. Her face glowed as she slept, as if she could not be any happier.
Something profound happened that night, and I did not know what it was. All I knew was that something had changed. It was in the way she gazed at me, in the way her fingers would seek out the comfort of my hands. In retrospect, maybe it was that she had fallen in love for the first time, even though she had yet to say so. But as with all things beautiful, words merely got in the way. So, I didn’t care for them. I felt it in her presence that what we shared went beyond the effable, beyond what could be written about. It was the infinite space between the unspoken I-love-yous that resounded so clearly all around us.
When the gods finally lit the stars for the night, and the moon had slipped into oblivion, I watched little rays of starlight twirl in full-bodied color on her celestial face. I wanted to stretch out my hands and caress her, to take hold of her and say, “Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God my God.”
Like Jacob wrestling that terrible angel, I, too, wanted to grasp her—if only for a temporal second—so that I could encounter the divine.
But I dared not disturb what was sacred, so I let her sleep.”
― Strange Deaths of the Last Romantic
Something profound happened that night, and I did not know what it was. All I knew was that something had changed. It was in the way she gazed at me, in the way her fingers would seek out the comfort of my hands. In retrospect, maybe it was that she had fallen in love for the first time, even though she had yet to say so. But as with all things beautiful, words merely got in the way. So, I didn’t care for them. I felt it in her presence that what we shared went beyond the effable, beyond what could be written about. It was the infinite space between the unspoken I-love-yous that resounded so clearly all around us.
When the gods finally lit the stars for the night, and the moon had slipped into oblivion, I watched little rays of starlight twirl in full-bodied color on her celestial face. I wanted to stretch out my hands and caress her, to take hold of her and say, “Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God my God.”
Like Jacob wrestling that terrible angel, I, too, wanted to grasp her—if only for a temporal second—so that I could encounter the divine.
But I dared not disturb what was sacred, so I let her sleep.”
― Strange Deaths of the Last Romantic
