Remember you the trails and
forest we walked with hands
Joined, and heads leaning
against each other, as if
We were hiding within ourselves?
Kahlil Gibran (1833-1931)
Love Quote
He poured so gently and…
He poured so gently and naturally into my life like batter in a bowl of batter, Honey into a jar of honey, the clearest water sinking into sand. Justine Syndney
You touched my life…
…You touched my life.
My life reaches the skin, moves under your smile.
And your throat and your shoulders
and your face and your thighs
Flash.
… The spaces of the body
Are suddenly limitless…
Muriel Rukeyser (1913-1980)
Desire even in its wildest tantrums…
Desire even in its wildest tantrums, can neither persuade me it is love nor stop me wishing it were W.H. Auden (1907-1973)
Taking her hand, he turned it over…
…taking her hand, he turned it over and pressed his lips into the palm. Something vital, electric, leaped from him to her at the touch of his warm mouth, something that caresses her whole body thrillingly. His lips traveled to her wrist and she knew he must feel the leap of her pulse as her heart quickened and she tried to draw back her hand. She had not bargained on this– this treacherous warm tide of feeling that made her want to run her hands through his hair, to feel his lips upon her mouth. Margaret Mitchell (1900-1949)
We all go about longing for love:…
We all go about longing for love: it is the first need of our natures, the first prayer of our hearts; but we dare not utter our longing: we are to shy. George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)
Passion such as hers is all consent, asking
Passion such as hers is all consent, asking little in return: I had merely to enter a room where she was to see her face take on that peaceful expression of one who is resting in bed. If I touched her I had the impression that all the blood in her veins was turning to honey. Marguerite Yourcenar (1903-1987)
I touch you, and your skin enjoys…
I touch you and your skin enjoys the keen
Outlines of pleasure which my hands devise.
Jan Montefiore
She half enclosed me with her arms. She pressed…
She half enclosed me with her arms.
She pressed me with a meek embrace;
and bending back her head,
she looked up,’and gazed upon my face.
‘Twas partly love, and partly fear,
and partly ’twas a bashful art,
That I might rather feel, than see,
The swelling of her heart.Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834)
The cry of my body for completeness.
The cry of my body for completeness. That is a cry to you. Mary Carolyn Davies