A man becomes his thoughts and these are now yours.
Iain S. ThomasJoan of Arc came back as a little girl in Japan, and her father told her to stop listening to her imaginary friends.
Elvis was born again in a small village in Sudan, he died hungry, age 9, never knowing what a guitar was.
Michelangelo was drafted into the military at age 18 in Korea, he painted his face black with shoe polish and learned to kill.
Jackson Pollock got told to stop making a mess, somewhere in Russia.
Hemingway, to this day, writes DVD instruction manuals somewhere in China. He’s an old man on a factory line. You wouldn’t recognise him.
Gandhi was born to a wealthy stockbroker in New York. He never forgave the world after his father threw himself from his office window, on the 21st floor.
And everyone, somewhere, is someone, if we only give them a chance.
Stop telling me to follow my heart. It once led me to you.
Iain S. ThomasI have a list in my head of all the feelings I still want to feel before I die. And you have ticked so many things off that list.
Iain S. ThomasIf I breathe you in and you breathe me out, I swear we can breathe forever. I swear I’ll find summer in your winter and spring in your autumn and always, hands at the ends of your fingers, arms at the ends of your shoulders and I swear, when we run out of forever, when we run out of air, your name will be the last word that my lungs make air for.
Iain S. ThomasStichwörter: love romantic lovers i-wrote-this-for-you
This is my skin. This is not your skin, yet you are still under it.
Iain S. ThomasStichwörter: love intimacy skin i-wrote-this-for-you
I’d study the science of you until I turned it into an art.
The way your atoms rub together.
Molecules colliding.
Chemistry building.
Explosions of heat and radiation burning
like a star at the end of the world.
There are a million ways to bleed. But you are by far my favorite.
Iain S. ThomasStichwörter: i-wrote-this-for-you iain-thomas
I’m not the person you left behind anymore. There’s no one here to miss.
Iain S. ThomasI like to think that somewhere out there, on a planet exactly like ours, two people exactly like you and me made totally different choices and that, somewhere, we’re still together. That’s enough for me.
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