Inkmarks On Empty Dreams

  „Rebeccah and the highwayman” is a lesbian  historical novel placed in England during Good Queen Anne’s reign. Those are dark middle ages times when countries knew two social classes : the very rich and the poor and some of the poor turned into Robin Hood’s because of the social differences. It’s not exactly a tale of the musketeers either, but highwaymen were highly rated and both loved and hated for what they were doing. In this turmoil of a world, our two main characters meet : the Dutton’s carriage is attacked by highwaymen on their road home, yet the elder daughter of the rich family : Mistress Rebeccah Dutton is yet fascinated by „Blue Eyed Nick”’s eyes and mannerism or pity when „he” doesn’t take her father’s ring away from her. I enjoyed how „Blue Eyed Nick”’s identity is kept a secret  from Rebeccah, yet I wished it would have been kept a secret from the reader, too. We make aquaintence with Kate, who’s a low class woman living with her landowner Alice, so our „Blue Eyed...

  Ce bine ca eşti   E o întâmplare a fiinţei mele şi atunci fericirea dinlăuntrul meu e mai puternică decât mine, decât oasele mele, pe care mi le scrâşneşti într-o îmbrăţişare mereu dureroasă, minunată mereu. Să stăm de vorbă, să vorbim, să spunem cuvinte lungi, sticloase, ca nişte dălţi ce despart fluviul rece în delta fierbinte, ziua de noapte, bazaltul de bazalt. Du-mă, fericire, în sus, şi izbeşte-mi tâmpla de stele , până când lumea mea prelungă şi în nesfârşire se face coloană sau altceva mult mai înalt şi mult mai curând. Ce bine că eşti, ce mirare că sunt! Două cântece diferite, lovindu-se amestecându-se, douâ culori ce nu s-au văzut niciodată, una foarte de jos, întoarsă spre pământ, una foarte de sus, aproape ruptă în înfrigurata, neasemuită luptă a minunii că eşti, a-ntâmplării că sunt. Nichita Stanescu   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JFkn9ByNtmk      

    Some nights are breathless without you by my side, Some days are lonely without your smile to tame me, Some places are empty without the seducing feeling of us, Some songs are wordless without an embraced dance of us. The same things that used to be so familiar before, Now, they’re dying butterflies as you are not here anymore.   Every night I empty my thoughts, But until morning they are full of you again. As droplets of us lazily linger within the sorrow of my hungry heart. How can I follow the path, when I have lost the map? It’s all coming back to me now, Overwhelming this sad soul with whispered memories , Of a seducing love that has inflamed our spirits. Feelings lost, memories found. Bruise my aching heart , With yearnings of you at dawn , With piercing sorrow at nightfall . Nothing moves, as the night is deeper measured in silence, Whenever pictures of you conquer my mind’s eye, With blissful promises of evanescence , With sensual touches that cross imagery’s...