Lavender Haze by Taylor Swift (Aeseaes Cover)

 Do you ever get that feeling where everything feels… kind of hazy? And then it’s gone. That’s called the lavender haze -Mad Men

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don't ever say too much

And you don't really read into

My melancholia

I've been under scrutiny 

You handle it beautifully 

All this shit is new to me 

I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me

Surreal

I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal

The 1950s' shit they want from me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

All they keep asking me

Is if I'm gonna be your bride

The only kinda girl they see

Is a one-night or a wife

I find it dizzying 

They're bringing up my history 

But you weren't even listening 

An excerpt from the Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai

If you don't have love, you don't properly exist. If you don't properly exist, you don't have love. One morning, after the rains had passed, Sunny woke into a memory of being half asleep just the way he was now, of waking into the bloom of affection greater than himself. It was greater because it no longer existed inside himself and Sonia- they were encased within it, the countryside was colored by it, the news was shaded by it, maybe one day even their deaths would be small matters within it. He turned to tell Sonia this, but she was not by his side, nor was she at her desk. He walked down the path that shuffled to the ocean and searched for her amidst the waves. The waves subtracted his thinking. He launched himself into the water and swam straight out to her in the manner of a seabird joining another seabird. 

The Third Act

 When you with me, it's a good day

- Gunna 

You are the third and final act

The denouement, the resolve

The round of applause, the crowning

The descent of the heavy velveteen

... the last word

the deliberating silence

following a spell-binding performance

lived on its own terms

... the blinding lights

flooding the theatre 

catching the sparkle of sweat trickling 

down a face made-up

... the walk to centre stage

my bow to the audience 

I take these steps with Chekov's gun

my heart to you I offer

... mensa, predella, 

sanctuary of return

I kneel in the chancel to God

the nave may call to me