a dream ago, perhaps..

https://hellopoetry.com/ghalya/poems/

[mournfulroses]

Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959

[mournfulroses]

Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959

[mournfulroses]

Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959

[inkpressedpetals]

[inkpressedpetals]

[perfectfeelings]

“Imagine being with someone where it’s safe enough to just talk for hours about your fears and the things you’re ashamed of … Imagine …”

— Unknown

[nixscriptum]

[mournfulroses]

María Casares, from a letter to Albert Camus, featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959

[mournfulroses]

Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959

[mournfulroses]

Julia de Burgos, from a poem titled "That You Love Me," featured in Song of the Simple Truth: Poems

[2samuel1427]

[mournfulroses]

Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares featured in Correspondance, 1944-1959

[mournfulroses]

Rati Saxena, from a poem titled "Mountain Nights," featured in Not a muse : the inner lives of women : a world poetry anthology

[niddy-writes-randomly]

June 14, wednesday : we ache in secret.

[spilling3amthoughts]

Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they're even born.

-F. scott fitzgerald: the beautiful and damned

[spilling3amthoughts]

Because you never yet have loved me, dear,

Think you you never can nor ever will?

Surely while life remains hope lingers still,

Hope the last blossom of life's dying year.

Because the season and mine age grow sere,

Shall never Spring bring forth her daffodil,

Shall never sweeter Summer feast her fill

Of roses with the nightingales they hear?

If you had loved me, I not loving you,

If you had urged me with the tender plea

Of what our unknown years to come might do

(Eternal years, if Time should count too few),

I would have owned the point you pressed on me,

Was possible, or probable, or true.

- Christina rossetti :Touching ‘Never’

[spilling3amthoughts]

“To her whose heart is my heart’s quiet home,

To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;

Whose service is my special dignity,

And she is my loadstar while I go and come.”

- Christina rossetti: sonnets are full of love, and this is my tome.(1881)