You can be in a relationship for two years and feel nothing; you can be in a relationship for 2 months and feel everything. Time is not a measure of quality; of infatuation, or of love.
What does happiness look like?
You in your red coat.
Where does it go for a drink?
To bed, on Sundays.
What does happiness sound like?
The purr of an unhooked phone.
What does it do for a living?
It has private means.
What does happiness feel like?
The barehanded planting of bulbs.
What is its home address?
Does happiness have a scent?
The sea, the air, the earth.
Where did you see it last?
Under the bedclothes, laughing.
What taste does happiness have?
That of a long, slow kiss.
And how does happiness write?
Badly, like this.
“ياخطيئتي الأولى، يا أطهر سيئاتي.
My first sin…the purest of them all”
Venus is in the business of attraction and pleasure, but in Scorpio she mesmerizes. In Scorpio she wants it all. In Scorpio she doesn’t just taste, she consumes.
And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister’s story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.
|me:||*owns 264 unread books*|
|me:||*buys 17 new books*|
|me:||*rereads harry potter*|