love is violence

@jgatzsby / jgatzsby.tumblr.com

giovana, 19yrs old
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William-Adolphe Bouguereau’s Pieta (detail)

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blue aesthetics

Prussian Blue: smoky parlours, wind in pines, silver chains on black satin, leather-bound books worn down with age, the smell of cedar and whiskey on the tongue, quiet sweep of silk on skin, cellos humming in an empty room, snow falling in the dark.

Ultramarine: a grand terrace at dusk, bare feet on marble, scent of gardenias lingering on skin, bright-eyed girls laughing in a dance hall, dark murmur of distant seas and skeins of light that quiver on water, slow moan of lovers whispering in the olive groves.

Cerulean: hot skin, white sand, seas burning beneath a midday sun, sloe-eyed musicians sipping coffee by the fountain, the thrum of bodies in a market square, scent of rosemary and wild thyme, slow drip of acacia honey from the comb, dark braids decorated with cowrie shells

Indigo: ink black velvet, distant thunder, the half-remembered bars of a nocturne echoing in memory, stopped clocks and silent manors, wisteria blossoms in moonlight, the soundless running of fingers through your lover’s hair in the dark, the dying scent of damask roses.

Turquoise: surf on the sea, misty mornings, bronzed backs of clam divers wading among the rocks, the click-clack of beaded curtains in a shop door, delicate tendrils of anemone and the iridiscent shimmer of mussel shells, sunlight glimmering in rock pools, children laughing

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“I am fond of lovers but I cannot love, I am too far away, am banished,”

Franz Kafka, from a diary entry wr. c. January 1917 featured in “Diaries,

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Depiction of guardian deities of the underworld, scene from Book of the Dead, from Tutankhamun’s third outermost gilded shrine. Egyptian Museum, Cairo.

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