Cdan

“You look at me, you look at me closely, each time closer and then we play cyclops, we look at each other closer each time and our eyes grow, they grow closer, they overlap and the cyclops look at each other, breathing confusion, their mouths find each other and fight warmly, biting with their lips, resting their tongues lightly on their teeth, playing in their caverns where the heavy air comes and goes with the scent of an old perfume and silence. Then my hands want to hide in your hair, slowly stroke the depth of your hair while we kiss with mouths full of flowers or fish, of living movements, of dark fragrance. And if we bite each other, the pain is sweet, and if we drown in a short and terrible surge of breath, that instant death is beauty. And there is a single saliva and a single flavour of ripe fruit, and I can feel you shiver against me like a moon on the water.”
― Julio Cortazar

“In an isolated region from Iran there is this wall tower, windowless, doorless, not very tall. In its only room with arched walls and the stamped earth as its floor, there’s a wooden table and a bench. In this round cell a man that looks like me is writing in signs that i don’t understand a long poem about a man who in another round cell is writing a poem about a man in another round cell. Endless series; nobody will ever read what prisoners write. ”
― jorge luis borges

“I kept waiting for him to lay bare something more than this pointed unobjectionableness, but all that rose to the surface was more surface”
― Philip Roth, American Pastoral

“Spune-mi, daca te-as prinde-ntr-o zi
si ti-as saruta talpa piciorului,
nu-i asa ca ai schiopata putin, dupa aceea,
de teama sa nu-mi strivesti sarutul?”
― Nichita Stănescu, O viziune a sentimentelor