“I can’t think of any greater happiness than to be with you all the time, without interruption, endlessly, even though I feel that here in this world there’s no undisturbed place for our love, neither in the village nor anywhere else; and I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.”—Franz Kafka
“I cannot weep, for all my body’s moisture
Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart;
Nor can my tongue unload my heart’s great burden,
For selfsame wind that I should speak withal
Is kindling coals that fires all my breast,
And burns me up with flames that tears would quench
To weep is to make less the depth of grief…”—Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part 3
sometimes when i’m walking i put my hand inside my right pocket and rub my thumb on the inside of a half of heart charm and wish for it to either be large enough to use as a boat to float away in, or light enough to use as a glider to drift away on.
i have this dream in which we are laughing and dancing in the kitchen in between pecks on the cheek and chopping vegetables and wiping my glasses from the steam of the gnocchi on the stove and we chase each other through the house while our corgis nip at our pant legs.