epochs of love

I foresee my valentine humour getting worse and worse each year…. much love to the archaeology lovers on tumblr from moi :)

For the Good Days

For The Good Days

{Jeon Jungkook x Reader}

Epoch (n)

/’epək/

a time in history or a person’s life that is usually marked by notable events or certain characteristics.


first.

It’s at the age of video games and late night outs with best friends that you find him. When all you ever have to worry about was wrapping up shoots and editing content for a class project and showing up to your shifts at the quaint little bookstore down the street. Routine that he disrupts with his coffee eyes and spring smile.

Keep reading

The Epoch of Dancing
The Epoch of Meeting Him During His First Month Sober
The Epoch of Pretending We Did Not Meet the Way We Did
The Epoch of Eggshells and Peanuts on the Bar Floor
The Epoch of a Pop In the Chest
The Epoch of Going Home With Him on the First Night
The Epoch of Hearing Him Sing
The Epoch of Seeing Hidden Tattoos for the First Time
The Epoch of the Beginning of His Sheets
The Epoch of Steve Sleeping on the Couch Downstairs
The Epoch of Trying Not To Wake Him Up When You Panic at 2am
The Epoch of Letting His Music Put You Back To Sleep
The Epoch of Convincing Yourself This Night Was the Same As Any Other
The Epoch of Convincing Yourself It Was the Same With Him As It Had Been With Any Other
The Epoch of Accepting You Are Wrong, All the Time
The Epoch of Staying the Whole Next Day
The Epoch of Cohesion
The Epoch of Songs About Suicide 
The Epoch of Telling One Another Terrible Things
The Epoch of Nakedness
The Epoch of Making It to 28, and to 31
The Epoch of Promising to Call On That Birthday
The Epoch of Feeling Your Heart Stretch So Far You Think Something Is Clinically Wrong With Your Breathing
The Epoch of Dreaming About Stones in Your Windpipe
The Epoch of the Re-Entrance
The Epoch of Saying Things Too Soon
The Epoch of Wondering What He Is Like When He Is Not Sober
The Epoch of Father Poems
The Epoch of Mother Stories
The Epoch of Worrying He Will Love Her, Again
The Epoch of Making Up Stories and Trying to Take Them Back
The Epoch of It Being Too Easy to Love One Another
The Epoch of Worrying You Will Be the One to Break That Easy
The Epoch of Not Knowing How To Trust Ourselves to Love Someone Else
The Epoch of Condemning Easy, Good Love
The Epoch of Sleeping Better With Him In Your Bed
The Epoch of “It’s All Good”
The Epoch of Spaceship
The Epoch of Overhearing and Overthinking
The Epoch of Not Saying What Is Wrong, Because It May Just Be You
The Epoch of Reminding Yourself Not All His Friends Will Love You
The Epoch of the End of Fleeting and the Beginning of Staggering
The Epoch of A Hand Absorbing Stress Pressure Like Sand
The Epoch of Worry That You Are Falling Into Your Old Patterns
The Epoch of Contemplating the Disease of a Bread Knife
The Epoch of Re-Learning Your Name As Your Own and Keeping Him Beside You
The Epoch of Wanting to Stay
The Epoch of Not Concerning Yourself With Worry Over Being Unpolished 
The Epoch of Not Lying
The Epoch of Saying Things You’ve Said Before and, This Time, Meaning Them 
The Epoch of Pressing Your Cheek Against the Linoleum and Hearing Someone You Once Knew, Fuck In a Kitchen Below You
The Epoch of Being Asked to Be His Girl
The Epoch of Elation in the Span of His Palms
The Epoch of Being Petrified Rock
The Epoch of Uncoiling the Wire Until Weeks Feel Like Gifts
The Epoch of Waking Up Next To Him, Still
The Epoch of Staying
The Epoch of Wondering Where You Turned to Get You To This Sunlight
The Epoch of Willing Out the Congestion, and of Smiling and Meaning It, and of Dancing In A Graveyard Kitchen, and of Wanting to Go On. And of Wanting to Go On.
— 

“Lifespan of a Love” By Emma Bleker

(Structure inspired by Anne Carson’s Eras of Yves Klein)
in Paris there is a cafe not far from Rue Monsieur-le-Prince...

I know how to love
I wear an affection,
an actuality of my energy
and intimacies bleed off my skin -
a little stubbornness never hurts 
I will tell you that I am a free spirit
of sorts, I belong to no one
and I feel like no one belongs to me
go ahead, dig up my bones,
find my moons,
and softly peel away my destruction
in the black and white darkness
a rebellion soul I have at times
where ink writes red, like blood in the cold black nights,
to catch my sacred pulses that beat
as loud as thunder breaking through a sky
as you can feel my delicate drops,
my rain against your skin  
I simply want my own moon 
and my twined engagements
of my epoch love  
as I take my last breath…  

The signs as epochs in history
  • Iron Age: Taurus, Scorpio
  • Classical antiquity (Rome and Greece): Sagittarius, Cancer
  • Middle Ages: Pisces, Gemini
  • Renaissance: Aquarius, Leo
  • Early modern: Aries, Libra
  • Enlightenment: Capricorn, Virgo
Salt of the Earth

Something about the exchange
Of molecules between our lungs
and words within our breaths.

Something about my thumb
grazing your thumb instead
of a fluorescent screen
bearing your name.

Something about live music,
the way my ears taste the bass,
can never sound the same
in small white earphones,
but I enhance the volume anyway.

Something about you,
and how a drop of morning dew
is even more refreshing
than diving in a swimming pool
on a late July afternoon.
Finally I breathe cool, damp air.

And even among the opposite,
in a crowd humid and hot,
sweat beads on my upper lip,
I taste salt and dirt,
and hear each finger play each string
and voice sing raw word,
your existence becomes visceral, true.

I feel every single element
that conceived you.


-dani

I really miss all those moments..
Those little talks,
beautiful glances,
gentle kisses,
warm hugs n every single second
of our love epoch..
Everyday I’m wrapping myself
in the warmth memories of our togetherness
sitting alone
on the sands of time..
—  kishamore
I hope you know you're my best friend

Rich,

I love you more than there are stars in the sky or atoms in your eye.

There are so many words I could use to describe this incredible human and the feelings he gives me, but none of them are ever good enough. Words that truly convey feelings like this don’t exist. Feelings like this hardly exist. Feelings so incredible and so insurmountable that nothing could ever possibly tarnish them. This man is so much more than my fiancé. He is my partner in life, partner in crime, partner in work, cosmic mate, soul mate, team mate, BEST FRIEND, future husband, future father of my children, my home. 

Every single moment we share is incredibly precious to me. All the nights we stay up talking about nothing and everything. Laughing, crying. Falling in love over and over every day, and again every night.

We are on the horizon of so many truly amazing things. It’s all happening, and it’s all coming together. In a little over a year from now we will be married, and it’s still hard to believe sometimes that this is reality. That you are real and we can love each other this much. That we are doing so many great things together. That we’ve been hanging out with astronauts. That we are actually beginning to live out our dreams. That we are lucky enough to be able to do all of this together. Knowing that we will always be together. For keeps. 

I’ve spent so much time alone in my life that I assumed it would always be that way. I never dreamed there was such a wonderful configuration of star stuff out there waiting for me. I am forever grateful that we found one another in the cosmos, and it is my joy to share a planet and an epoch with you my love. We will go beyond the edge of forever…together.

“She had studied the universe all her life, but had overlooked its clearest message: For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.