What a waste of space.
did you just
You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
Anna Akhmatova, “You Will Hear Thunder”
Wild honey smells of freedom
The dust - of sunlight
The mouth of a young girl, like a violet
But gold - smells of nothing.
Anna Akhmatova (via fernsandmoss)