- They kissed there under an old oak-tree which probably saw the first virginian colonists to set foot on this ground. Not in a room full of expensive paintings and books, or between two doors covered by gold and ebony, or on the front step of a pretentious building. No. It just happened there under an oak-tree. And so he kissed her. Or she kissed him. Whatever… It was natural and logical and agreeable and evident. - Men are usually the first to go. She shouldn't be the one lying on a deathbed, not at 33 years of age. Christ's age. Maybe he could call for this reputed doctor in New York or this new medecine coming from Europe. Anything... He asked her what he could do. She said ''Kiss me. One last time.'' and so he kissed her. There was a salty taste on his lips.
- i don't knoooooooooooooow *LEAVE ME ALONE* lineart: [link]
I feel like the poem "I Carry You Heart With Me" by E.E. Cummings perfectly encapsulates these two...
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
ugh ... i know this poem and yes! this is for them i know another poem, sadder, with the POV of Martha:
Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft starlight at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.