Lívia Osti

“I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.”
― Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

“Now, you listen, Alyssa Victoria Gardner. Normal is subjective. Don't ever let anyone tell you you're not normal. Because you are to me. And my opinion is all that matters. Got it?”
― A.G. Howard, Splintered

“You will love him to ruins.”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Evolution of Mara Dyer

“A graffiti moon cut by the shadow of power lines. A prisoner moon, Leo wrote.”
― Cath Crowley, Graffiti Moon