[ kaveh says this. it's kaveh saying this. but kaveh's voice feels so entirely far away. in this very moment, this is where kaveh is: a house built for three, light cascading from the high-arched moorish windows sifting through blond hair like a ravishing waterfall. a man laughing, a woman's quiet smile. kaveh pouring over blueprints, hands sifting through pages that never seemed to end as he imagined what buildings would be made from these. the light extinguished one day. it had gone away. it would come back in little, flickering wisps, but never again with the fullness of its intensity or the comfort of its warmth.
they say in the beginning, the love you receive is the love that sets. when love is unreliable and you are a child, you assume that it is the nature of love – its quality – to be unreliable. children do not find fault with their parents until later. kaveh has never found fault in his parents. he has only ever found fault with himself. but what must it be like to have a love that you fear? a nightmare in one hand outstretched and a love in the other so deep that even the torment must have seemed like affection. heine had killed her, that mother of his. heine had killed her, and there had still been room in his heart for grief.
what kind of love set for heine that day? kaveh closes his eyes. the back of his eyelids burn. he opens them again. ]
If you had thought she was dead, then something must have come along to challenge that thought. Was she alive? Did she come for you?
no subject
[ kaveh says this. it's kaveh saying this. but kaveh's voice feels so entirely far away. in this very moment, this is where kaveh is: a house built for three, light cascading from the high-arched moorish windows sifting through blond hair like a ravishing waterfall. a man laughing, a woman's quiet smile. kaveh pouring over blueprints, hands sifting through pages that never seemed to end as he imagined what buildings would be made from these. the light extinguished one day. it had gone away. it would come back in little, flickering wisps, but never again with the fullness of its intensity or the comfort of its warmth.
they say in the beginning, the love you receive is the love that sets. when love is unreliable and you are a child, you assume that it is the nature of love – its quality – to be unreliable. children do not find fault with their parents until later. kaveh has never found fault in his parents. he has only ever found fault with himself. but what must it be like to have a love that you fear? a nightmare in one hand outstretched and a love in the other so deep that even the torment must have seemed like affection. heine had killed her, that mother of his. heine had killed her, and there had still been room in his heart for grief.
what kind of love set for heine that day? kaveh closes his eyes. the back of his eyelids burn. he opens them again. ]
If you had thought she was dead, then something must have come along to challenge that thought. Was she alive? Did she come for you?