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Jul. 6th, 2005 12:01 amDamn. Wish I could write like that.
The book's called Selected Poems and Two Plays of William Butler Yeats; he's had it since he doesn't know when. Spike pretty much covers his face with the book and lets his eyes close.
This poem he's just read: it's such a beautiful fucking poem. One of the most amazing things he's ever seen, and he makes a mental note to read it to Beth. He thinks she'll like it.
I can't write like that, but damn, Beth, I have that same passion in my veins for you. That first night, when I followed you upstairs... I didn't know what was going to happen, and I'm kind of glad I didn't stop to think about it more because if I had, I might have stopped myself. And you know what? It was amazing, that first time. Every time with you, I feel the same way. Like there's not a damn thing better in the universe than you and me, together. Because the way you move when we're together and the way you make me feel like we're dancing into some far-off place made up of light... well, shit, Slim: you take my breath away.
He opens his eyes again and takes a breath, smelling paper and glue. Printed word on the page.
He's glad Yeats wrote like he did: it's one of his secret great pleasures to read this stuff to Beth.
The book's called Selected Poems and Two Plays of William Butler Yeats; he's had it since he doesn't know when. Spike pretty much covers his face with the book and lets his eyes close.
This poem he's just read: it's such a beautiful fucking poem. One of the most amazing things he's ever seen, and he makes a mental note to read it to Beth. He thinks she'll like it.
I can't write like that, but damn, Beth, I have that same passion in my veins for you. That first night, when I followed you upstairs... I didn't know what was going to happen, and I'm kind of glad I didn't stop to think about it more because if I had, I might have stopped myself. And you know what? It was amazing, that first time. Every time with you, I feel the same way. Like there's not a damn thing better in the universe than you and me, together. Because the way you move when we're together and the way you make me feel like we're dancing into some far-off place made up of light... well, shit, Slim: you take my breath away.
He opens his eyes again and takes a breath, smelling paper and glue. Printed word on the page.
He's glad Yeats wrote like he did: it's one of his secret great pleasures to read this stuff to Beth.
