NIGHT HID THE SUN.

[sumerkiy]

what’s changed?    𝐲𝐨𝐮.    no. now you see me. that’s all. 

independent writing blog for an original character,  𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐕𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐇𝐄𝐕𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐕𝐀.   𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘈𝘐𝘕𝘌 𝘋𝘜𝘙𝘈𝘕𝘋.  themes include : espionage, manipulation, death, torture, government conspiracy and coercion, betrayal. other dark themes sure to be presented. INFORMATION INCOMING. written by scallop. please follow at your own discretion. 

[rassvetiye-a]

this yellow haired girl that anatoliy knows so little about already pulls a smile from him with ease that feels practiced, second nature, as though the muscles of his face remember her from some impossible, unwritten past.  a close lipped and shallow carving upon his face that is still a great achievement when so little has been able to sprout from the same place in his aching chest,  where he is haunted by wistful longing for what he had put behind him and the bittersweet regret over what has grown in his own wake. the graveyard where he buried the idea of this life but always kept inside him.  mariya would not see it with her eyes while they are facing the walls,  but she will know that the smile is there in his voice, just as he hears hers.

≪  the last time i saw her. she was crying.  ≫  anatoliy does not know why he says this other than to feel that the fortune of having a memory of his daughter at all is being pulled from him like thread,  untangling from the knot in his windpipe. if he had not been on that street on that day, he would have never known she exists. the balance that mariya spoke of feels impossible to sustain as he considers this fact. anatoliy clears his throat, mindful of the child that sleeps somewhere down the hall in a room he has no idea of what it looks like, of the noise he makes in this quiet house that he thinks was never meant to know his presence. ≪ there are some things that should be put into words, no? ≫

it is his desire to impose himself into this world and the orbit she creates that carries anatoliy to stand beside her, so close to the portraits that he could reach out and fulfill the want to touch and be one with them, but he doesn't. he shouldn't. he cannot. he has admitted that he knows this, and cannot take it back. to remind himself of this line that has been drawn is an uphill battle when the knowledge she gives becomes a feeling as heavy as stone upon his back. when their eyes find each other in the dark, the empty space between them fills with the sound of her voice, she's called aurore, and then the warmth of his body as he steps into it as far as he must in order to meet her in the end, it means dawn.

mariya has given him a gift, and it burns. she gets to keep a part of him for herself, and he will never have the same. but what they had is honored in the life that was born from its clinging desperation, and with it she promises not to let him be forgotten, to love him through the beautiful thing they created. he presses his forehead to hers as though the weight of this is too much for him to carry alone in his mind. her smell has changed but it is still just as easy to yield his lungs to. ≪  i had wished this for us. i do. i always will, where you will not hear me. ≫ anatoliy's empty hand rises to touch her cheek, to cradle her face. ≪ but it is enough that she is yours, mariya. ≫ he means this so deeply that it too burns. ≪ my mariya. i hope you are happy, too.  ≫

[sumerkiy]

beneath the weight of his brow where it leans against her own, mariya cannot help the slow, shuttering close of her eyes, or the exhale that steals between them and carries with it the ache of years turned without that balming touch. it seems to empty her lungs to a point they have not known in years, flattened with the effort of finally expelling some estrangement so foreign even she could not have factored it without him present -- his mind has changed. there may not be forgiveness between them for vitaly, but he understands now that it was necessary. she can sense it in the gentle way that his palm warms the sharpness of her cheek, softened somehow in the life she has taken to beyond him, though not so much as to leave it unfamiliar. there are edges that she lacks now, and new ones that have risen to assert themselves. motherhood has made her brutal, ruthless, but also more gentle. tender. that she allows him to linger is evidence of this, and the hand that raises to the back of his neck feels to her like selfishness. like cruelty.

≪ i will hear it. ≫ i hope you are happy, too. in moments, she will be. perhaps that is enough. ≪ we will wish for it together some nights, i am sure. even an ocean apart. ≫ her hand at the back of his neck slides to his cheek, the other raising to do the same as she pulls apart from him enough to find his eyes, unsure as to what she expects to find there, or if there is expectation at all -- she thinks perhaps all she wants is to see them. the impossible depth of them allowed to be recommitted to memory as if the one she'd held before could ever fail her. of course, what she remembers of them had been tainted with the narrowed sharpness of betrayal in their set : hers, against him. how she had seen herself reflected in the gathering damp they had shown her the last time she'd been afforded the sight of them. ≪ i regret that i have hurt you, anatoliy. ≫ the whisper seems larger, louder, for the swell of sincerity behind it. ≪ do you want to see her? she is sleeping now. when you think of her, i do not want you to think of her crying. ≫

[rassvetiye-a]

they are not the same. thriving and surviving. they feel as different to him as he does to mariya, as he sees mariya so differently from helaine. this is not something that needs to be said aloud, so it isn't. nor does anatoliy need the depth of the wounds that have been carved between them to be pointed out so plainly and he does not need them salted with tears, so he does not shed them.

there is no version of the story that still bares likeness to the one they had spun for each other, hands entwined at the window when the world felt like a different place with more beautiful things to offer, even as it was ending. anatoliy is under no delusion that there exist any words he can say that would be sweet enough to draw out what has already been imprinted on the page. he also knows, with tremendous agony that softens his look into something braving what is painful, something also like love, that they likely read from the last of the pages.

≪ i do. i see it. but you asked me what i wanted, not what will be. maybe it was more unfair of me to be honest. we have very little time left before the sun rises, mashunya, and i never darken your doorstep again. ≫ he says like a promise, a sweet nothing. in a rare gesture, anatoliy has come without weapon and stood entirely defenseless before her. when he reaches into the inner pocket of his coat, he draws from it something else that he seldom enters the world without, a habit born from the moment he plucked it from the air of marseille. anatoliy looks down at the handkerchief, running his thumb over the pink threading, and then looks around the room. there are photos where he meets his own eyes.

≪ she's beautiful. ≫ he speaks to something beyond what can be found in the little girls face. ≪ is she.. a happy child? ≫

@sumerkiy / cont.

[sumerkiy]

≪ the truth is rarely unfair, toshka. ≫ a kind of stillness comes over her, and in the absence of the music which had filled the room before, helaine -- mariya, could swear that she hears the beating of his heart above the static. she does not, of course. he is too far from her ; it is only the memory of it that now rises from the back of her mind, a careful cadence mapped many a time by her fingers in a drumming motion against his chest in morning hours. in twilight hours. anatoliy draws the handkerchief from his pocket, and she knows what it is long before the silk of it is spread upon his palm. the knowing does not lessen the blow. ≪ she is happy. ≫ it feels almost unkind to say, but the truth, while rarely unfair, is quite often unkind.

≪ beautiful, and kind . . . far kinder than i. and, more sensitive than you, at times. she sees the world, and lets it see her. ≫ her gait is even and graceful as she paces slightly closer, though not directly toward him, pausing instead by the same wall that his attention has fallen upon, to where her daughter, his daughter, grins from the confines of a photograph that, while it stings her heart to look upon, still somehow limits her beauty, her radiance. ≪ she has no patience for piano. ≫ mariya's smile is distant, the grey of her gaze trained upon one she holds no like with. ≪ and does not much care for music without words. ≫ her gaze shifts to him, a hand having lifted to rest her fingertips against the wall.

the pain of seeing him is not dulled even by the softness that the recollection grows in her, but she does not give herself over to the crushing power of it. ≪ i named her for you, as you were for your mother. she's called aurore. it means dawn. ≫

[sumerkiy]

one thing about MY blogs, i’m going to be that milf’s apologist

[rassvetiye-a]

𝐒𝐔𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐂,  𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐋. anatoliy dekhanov,  visage :  7/?

[verameowie]

Renata Litvinova for Luncheon magazine

photo: Gosha Rubchinskiy

[russian-and-soviet-cinema]

[sumerkiy]

mariya being 5′11. really i should whole hog it and make her 6ft but hey. 

[sumerkiy]

‘  my every feeling is controlled by the look on your face.  ’

scandal : @rassvetiye.

≪ that's quite a lot of power to give a person. ≫ he toes a delicate line, one that she has been quite clear in her reproach for in the past, but which does not seem to brook a repetition, here. the greying blue of her gaze is directed at him from beneath blonde lashes that blink then to break contact, pulling her attention briefly to the report he's placed upon her desk. ≪ from your misdirection, i can assume there is something here i will not like. is that correct, mister dekhanov? ≫

her head lifts then, her scrutiny offered in its entirety. the glance she gives him parts to land on the chair across from her and back with the direction to sit left unspoken, the look on her face kept perfectly inconclusive. ≪ maybe i should hear it in your own words. ≫

[sumerkiy]

‘  i am not some man acting out of rage and then thinking later. i am a woman.  ’ from bea

scandal : @d1c4af.

"so, what were you thinking?" patience informs the question, her fingers wrap the cool glass of a martini and she holds it apart from her mouth as she regards the other woman. there is no judgement written into the set of her face, nothing except the slightly elevated brow of apparent curiosity.

"what did you imagine the outcome of this would be?"

[sumerkiy]

‘  i want us to stand in the sun together.  ’

scandal : @rassvetiye.

they speak to each other now in the language that she thinks of him in, when she dares to. if it surprises him that the french inflection still tinges her speech while framing her native language, he does not say so -- perhaps he knows, even. that it sticks because she is not as dual in nature as he. she must dig for mariya to find her there beneath helaine. she has become the lie, never as inclined to draw lines through her being as he has done on occasion to create a self held apart from his deeds. mariya is her deeds -- her thoughts, her actions. whole, and complete. it was the whole of her that he had struggled to stomach, once. the gun lowers, but not completely.

there is a tilt of her head, beyond them the record on the turntable spins to its conclusion, static fills the air between them, and something in her mind slides into place like the clicking of an abacus bead. people are not so predictable as digits, but anatoliy has never been able to truly surprise her, save for the once. ≪ you want to come home. ≫ she nods. she frowns. this hurts her. there is a tinge of regret even in this utterance, and she trusts him to know that it is for the futility of the want, whether it is his want, or her own.

≪ i always told you, it would be you that would thrive. ≫  the pistol is not needed, the nonzero chance of his being here to harm them is eliminated, and in a rare break from her character, she had never genuinely considered it. it meets the table in silence, then, and helaine considers his face with her own softened by something like love, like care. ≪ you have. you made a life for yourself, anatoliy. a better one than i could have wished for you, and under your own name . . . you are finally yourself. the man, and the deeds. but it is those deeds that would spell her ruin. the best of what you can offer her is not to compromise us. it will be a beautiful, sad life, but it will be a life. you will survive it. ≫ 

she is not so naive as to think they might speak again, and if he heeds her, they never will. there is no salve to this wound, and she does not mean to try, only to spell her intentions, as he had long ago lost his ability to parse them himself. ≪ i don't say this to hurt you, tolya. it is only that i have something else now that i do not choose to live without. keeping her requires the loss of you. it cuts, but it is balanced. i know you see it, too. ≫ 

[littlelovelymemes]

(    *    & .    —    SCANDAL SENTENCE STARTERS .

‘  a lady never gets drunk.  ’

‘  and yes, i do love you. no matter what. i have always loved you. no matter what.  ’

‘  are you still getting married?  ’

‘  as long as she’s alive, well, she’s your flaw. your achilles heel. which makes her my weapon.  ’

‘  buying into the delusion that there’s any way to live together, to get through an entire life together, that’s… well, that’s the fantasy. that’s pretending.  ’

‘  call my bluff. i dare you.  ’

‘  come back to me. forgive me. i love you.  ’

‘  do not tell me what i have to do. you don’t get to do that anymore.  ’

‘  do you not understand that when the monster gets hungry, he will turn around and eat you?  ’

‘  do you want me to get married?  ’

‘  do you want me to thank you? thank you for saving me from my sad little suicide attempt?  ’

‘  does it bother you at all? all the lies and pretending? and that’s not an accusation cause i do it too and i do it well.  ’

‘  don’t insult me by lying to my face.  ’

‘  don’t patronize me like i’m some hysterical teenage girl at the beginning of my cycle.  ’

‘  for a screw up, you’re actually very bright.  ’

‘  frankly, it’s embarrassing that you still haven’t realized, after all this time, that if we were together – actually together – i would tear right through you.  ’

‘  girls like to be kissed first, right? romance them a little before you dive right into their pants?  ’

‘  go screw yourself. and when you’re done with that, you can go straight to hell and screw yourself there.  ’

‘  he has a weakness. if i exploit it, maybe i can get information out of him.  ’

‘  he is who i choose. he is who i will always choose. you are just a lesser version of him, a sad reminder of who i truly deserve.  ’

‘  how does someone as brilliant, as accomplished as you, not know what you are, who you are?  ’

‘  i am better than you.  ’

‘  i am not some man acting out of rage and then thinking later. i am a woman.  ’

‘  i am not some toy you can play with when you’re bored or lonely or horny. i am not the girl the guy gets at the end of the movie. i am not a fantasy. if you want me, earn me. until then, we are done.  ’

‘  i am sick of smiling. i am sick of acting like we’re happy.  ’

‘  i am spectacular, but i can’t compete with religious fervor.  ’

‘  i am tired of doing everything myself! i am alone here!  ’

‘  i asked you to save me… and you said no.  ’

‘  i can’t be with you. it’s not that i can’t – i don’t want to.  ’

‘  i can’t breathe without you. i can’t sleep without you.  ’

‘  i can’t do this… be with you. i can’t be with you. i’m sorry.  ’

‘  i could tell you five minutes from now that i want to be with you, that i want to save you… you would crawl back to me and forgive me every single time.  ’

‘  i don’t want to marry her. i want to be with you. do you want to be with me?  ’

‘  i don’t want us to fight anymore. if you don’t hurt me, i won’t hurt you.  ’

‘  i exist for you.  ’

‘  i got here because i managed to escape you.  ’

‘  i have never left your side. you left mine, but i never left yours.  ’

‘  i have spent all this time feeling guilty, feeling like a monster, feeling like i broke us! but it was you!  ’

‘  i haven’t had this much fun spending the night with a woman in… hell… ever.  ’

‘  i just got you back  ’

‘  i lie in bed every night and i play our relationship over and over again in my head like a movie. we meet. we fall in love. we can’t stop ourselves. we’re meant to be. i give up everything inside of me and then it stops. the movie just stops. i don’t know how it ends.  ’

‘  i love you. i’m in love with you. you are the love of my life.  ’

‘  i love you. i’m in love with you. you are the love of my life. my every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. i can’t breathe without you, i can’t sleep without you. i wait for you, i watch for you. i exist for you.  ’

‘  i may not be able to control my erections around you, but that does not mean i want you.  ’

‘  i think you believe that i will never choose you.  ’

‘  i thought, hey! let’s get some estrogen in here and see what happens!  ’

‘  i wait for you, i watch for you.  ’

‘  i want us to stand in the sun together.  ’

‘  i wasn’t thinking about you. i don’t think about you.  ’

‘  i will open up our closet and i will pull out our dirty laundry to the world. i am that tired.  ’

‘  i will slit his throat. if he learns that i’m the one who made you break his heart, that too will force me to slit his throat.  ’

‘  i wish we’d never met, but we did. and i tried… i tried and failed. and tried and failed again to hide – to stop loving him. but i couldn’t. i was weak. i hated myself.  ’

‘  i would never try to kill you.  ’

‘  if i only went where i was welcomed, i would never leave the house.  ’

‘  if you knew the sacrifices i have made, the things i have given up, and the pieces of myself that i have given away for you… and you treat me this way? you declare war on me and you shame me and you make me beg for scraps when i have done nothing but fight for you.  ’

‘  if you want me, earn me!  ’

‘  it hurts until it doesn’t. you think it’s going to break you, but it won’t. you may not sleep as well at night, but you will be fine. numb, but numb and fine are the same.  ’

‘  it’s a gesture. it means i’m sorry. people get coffee when they’re sorry… i can get you tea instead.  ’

‘  it’s because you found your precious (name here) doesn’t have the secrets of the universe tucked between her magical thighs – that she’s just a person like everyone else and that she’s capable of using you like everyone else.  ’

‘  it’s my turn! he suffers. he hurts. he burns. i’m tired of carrying the cross. let him pick it up now.  ’

‘  it’s you and me.  ’

‘  it’s you. you’re difficult.  ’

‘  i’d lose… our little war. i’d lose.  ’

‘  i’m damaged. she doesn’t like to yell at me.  ’

‘  i’m done. i told you we’re done. we’re over.  ’

‘  i’m just a twisted sociopath who gets what she wants no matter who gets bulldozed along the way.  ’

‘  i’m playing the game and i’m playing it better than anyone.  ’

‘  i’ve gone from being his bitch to being yours.  ’

‘  leave me be. leave me be!  ’

‘  let’s not pretend we’re something we’re not.  ’

‘  life is unfortunate. random. coincidental. bad things happen to good people all the time.  ’

‘  marriage can wreak havoc on a person.  ’

‘  mediocrity is not an option for me. i don’t want that and neither should you.  ’

‘  monsters eat people. it’s what we do.  ’

‘  my every feeling is controlled by the look on your face.  ’

‘  oh, look. it’s the girl who can’t shut her legs or her mouth.  ’

‘  one, i am not a hen. two, i am not a prize at a state fair. you cannot win me!  ’

‘  please stop. please stop getting my hopes up.  ’

‘  pretending is what’s real. every married couple alive pretends.  ’

‘  put another glass of scotch on top of it and just deal with it.  ’

‘  screw as many whores as you want. i wouldn’t expect anything less.  ’

‘  she’s not my mistress anymore, so buck up. you won.  ’

‘  she’s perfect, but she’s not you.  ’

‘  she’s perfect. but she’s not you.  ’

‘  so cheers, baby. drink up. i live to fight another day.  ’

‘  so, you can cheat and i can’t? is that it? well, that is one hell of a double standard.  ’

‘  stock your damn fridge. if i’m going to be your fake boyfriend all day, i’m going to come home at the end of it and drink real beer and eat real food.  ’

‘  the only difference is that i’m in love with you. some people would call that a defect.  ’

‘  the plan is to find him, and when i do, i’m going to look him in the eye and put a bullet in his head.  ’

‘  the truth of the matter is that i will never love anyone as much as i love you.  ’

‘  the truth of the matter is that i will never love anyone as much as i love you. you have never chosen me. we’ve done horrible things to one another, but for some reason, i still end up here in front of you… looking at you. wanting you. in love with you.  ’

‘  there is a famine in my lady bits. my vagina is beautiful, she is welcoming, but she is being treated like a murder house. i can’t get anything in there.  ’

‘  there’s no gratitude in parenting. i don’t know why we do it.  ’

‘  this is amazing. she has actually managed to go from being a slut, to being an every-woman, to being your sister-wife in under 48 hours. i didn’t even know that was possible.  ’

‘  time’s up! we’re coming for you!  ’

‘  we should’ve locked ourselves in a room together and gotten drunk years ago.  ’

‘  well, guess what? you’re alone! the path that you walk is not my path. the shoes that you stand in are not my shoes. we are not equals, nor will we ever be. you are alone.  ’

‘  we’re in this together, okay? we have to be in this together because i don’t have anybody else. i don’t. you’re all i have.  ’

‘  we’re not ever going to be over. i am never going to be over you.  ’

‘  we’ve done horrible things to one another, but for some reason, i still end up here in front of you… looking at you. wanting you. in love with you.  ’

‘  what does it feel like to be so hot for someone, to be so turned on by them that you would put everything you ever worked for at risk? does it feel good? is it an amazing high?  ’

‘  what, did you think you’d find me drunk and playing russian roulette?  ’

‘  what’d you call me? ornamental? not functional? i am a rose dying on a vine here.  ’

‘  what’s wrong? what’s wrong? what is wrong? this is my life! that’s what’s wrong!  ’

‘  when i was faced with the chance to cheat, i kept my knees together and said no.  ’

‘  when you walk in here, you make me hope.  ’

‘  you always did know just the right way to hurt me.  ’

‘  you are a measly little troll and i don’t like you, and i do not respect you, and i think you’re pathetic.  ’

‘  you are the biggest bitch i know. don’t tell me you can’t do this.  ’

‘  you are the one i like to ride, but no one will ever ride you like i do.  ’

‘  you declare war on me and you shame me and you make me beg for scraps when i have done nothing but fight for you.  ’

‘  you do not summon me!  ’

‘  you don’t have to love me, but we are in this hell together and the flames are burning both of us with equal intensity, baby, so the least you could do is be my friend.  ’

‘  you have never chosen me.  ’

‘  you have no idea how my world works.  ’

‘  you love me. you love me!  ’

‘  you missed out on your happy ending today.  ’

‘  you own me! you control me! i belong to you!  ’

‘  you put your tongue in my mouth and now i deserve to live? that’s a thing? that’s how it goes?  ’

‘  you ruined me. i’m ruined!  ’

‘  you should know – i hope you know – i did my best for you. i take tremendous pride in who you have become.  ’

‘  you should never apologize for being you.  ’

‘  you should’ve never given me someone to love. monsters eat people. it’s what we do.  ’

‘  you took in a wild monster and you groomed me and petted me and trained me to sit at your feet, but that doesn’t mean i’m a puppy. that just makes me a very loyal monster. so i don’t go too far. i went exactly as far as my leash allows and yo hold the leash. you went too far.  ’

‘  you were never an option for me.  ’

‘  you! you ruined our relationship! you shut me down. you locked the door. you killed us.  ’

‘  you’re an escape, someone to toy with. you’re a yo-yo, a booty call, a side piece.  ’

‘  you’re complimenting me. is this some new, genuine way of putting the screws to me?  ’

‘  you’re not good enough for me.  ’

‘  you’re not ready. and you never will be.  ’

‘  you’re not you anymore. you know who you are? you know who you’ve become? you’re your father.  ’

‘  you’re one creepy bastard, you know that?  ’

‘  you’re ornamental. not functional. so don’t come in here and try to use your brain because no one cares.  ’

‘  you’re scared of what we have. of something real.  ’

‘  you’re the only one who has always been honest with who you are.  ’

‘  you’re weak. you need me too much – need me to tell you what to do and how to feel. you were never an option for me.  ’

‘  you’re wrong. i’m not scared. i may be horrible because i’m abandoning you, because i always abandon you, but i’m not scared. not the least bit.  ’

(  my original version of this meme can be found here.  )

[rassvetiye-a]

@sumerkiy -   continued.

≪  mm.  i have not had anything to lose in quite some time,  mashunya.  ≫    though a man will never truly forget the aching tight of his younger heart or stomachs hunger,  his longing only evolves its hunt for other ways to feel fulfilled.  complete.   ≪  when i did,  there was hardly any choice in the matter.   ≫   perhaps it’s the choices anatoliy can feel himself beginning to make that plague him from his sleep.

for all of anatoliy’s optimism and drive to keep it unrelenting,  what it means to thrive is so far off into the realm of ideals,  a place so unknown that it takes no shape to him,  only makes him think to laugh in a way that produces no sound.

he turns his face away from her like he would when something is said it only to humor or hurt him.   his cheek is pressed farther into the warmth of her palm in doing so,   so he takes her hand from his face with the one that doesn’t possess the cigarette they share,  coming to rest his chin atop the single fist made of their entwined fingers.   even with his gaze having been turned to the window,  the better part of his attention is paid into the gentle run of his thumb over the back of her hand.  he loves her hands and wants to kiss them when he’s asked what in this world he could not do without,   but he doesn’t. 

≪  i could do without anything at all,   ≫   he has before.   ≪  but when the time comes i don’t think i would choose to.   would you?  ≫   

[sumerkiy]

≪ no. who would choose to do without? ≫  mariya does not doubt that he knows this, or that he might have suspected such an answer from her. what he wants to know is something different altogether, he only hesitates to ask -- why, she can only wonder.  the shift of her hand is delicate as it turns from his hold to settle his chin in the curve she makes of it, just the shape to allow a comfortable fit for the familiar breadth of his jaw. as gently as his thumb had warmed the back of her hand, her own chafes against the stubble she finds beneath the pad with equal tenderness.

≪ you want to know what i would not choose to do without? ≫  a smile carves its presence into the coolness of her features, angular and harsh, but never deprived of learned softness, in his sight.  ≪  i do not choose a life without you, if that is what concerns you. what’s more, i do believe i have will enough to never need to. what do you imagine could keep me from you? ≫ 

[lilllium]

—Lilllium, from my piece This is How We Self Destruct

[89words]

“I’m saying your name on the bridge at dawn. Your name like an animal covered with frost, your name like a music that’s been transposed, a suit of fur, a coat of mud, a kick in the pants, a lungful of glass, the sails in wind and the slap of waves on the hull of a boat that’s sinking to the sound of mermaids singing songs of love, and the tug of a simple profound sadness when it sounds so far away.”

— Richard Siken, “Saying Your Name.”  

[adreciclarte3]

by Pentti Sammallahti

[sumerkiy]

❛ It makes you think about things you couldn’t stand losing, about who you wanna spend your life with. ❜ pre defecting.

THE DARK KNIGHT : @rassvetiye.

≪ you don't find that strange? ≫ the world does not burn around them, but rather marches toward an inevitable end in andante, with ample time to spare in order to mourn what their mouths do not yet have language for. whether he knows it or not, anatoliy has shown her yet again that her mind is not given to the same pattern of rumination as his own : there is always the consideration of what she could do without, what path her life might take in the absence of this or that. she has never needed circumstance to inspire her toward the inspection of what in her life is a constant and what is a variable, and while it has painted her colder than she'd meant it to on more than one occasion, the state they have been delivered to does not incline her to believe herself in the wrong.

≪ there may not be much life to spend, so it would seem. ≫ though never truly given over to dramatics, it is not above her to limn the grimness of their reality in the darkness that it deserves. still, she lightens for him, dusk giving way to dawn as nature demands. ≪ if any of us are to thrive beyond this, i have no doubt it will be you. what do you imagine for yourself, then - what can you not do without? ≫