http://southofreality.livejournal.com/tag/verse%3A%20halcyon%20%28lighthouse%29


from: http://exceptindreams.livejournal.com/346691.html

"After All This"
Richard Jackson

After all this love, after the birds rip like scissors
through the morning sky, after we leave, when the empty
bed appears like a collapsed galaxy, or the wake of
disturbed air behind a plane, after that, as the wind turns
to stone, as the leaves shriek, you are still breathing
inside my own breath. The lighthouse on the far point
still sweeps away the darkness with the brush of an arm.
The tides inside your heart still pull me towards you.
After all this, what are these words but mollusk shells
a child plays with? What could say more than the eloquence
of last night's constellations? or the storm anchored by
its own flashes behind the far mountains? I remember
the way your body wavers under my touch like the northern
lights. After all this, I want the certainty of hidden roots
spreading in all directions from their tree. I want to hear
again the sky tangled in your voice. Some nights I can
hear the footsteps of the stars. How can these words
ever reveal the secret that waits in their sleeping light?
The words that walk through my mind say only what has
already passed. Beyond, the swallows are still knitting
the wind. After a while, the smokebush will turn to fire.
After a while, the thin moon will grow like a tear in a curtain.
Under it, a small boy kicks a ball against the wall of
a burned out house. He is too young to remember the war.
He hardly knows the emptiness that kindles around him.
He can speak the language of early birds outside our window.
Someday he will know this kind of love that changes
the color of the sky, and frees the earth from its moorings.
Sometimes I kiss your eyes to see beyond what I can imagine.
Sometimes I think I can speak the language of unborn stars.
I think the whole earth breathes with you. After all this,
these words are all I have to say what is impossible to think,
what shy dreams hide in the rafters of my heart, because
these words are only a form of touch, only tell you I have no life
that isn't yours, and no death you couldn't turn into a life.

I dumped everything I could think of here to give you maximum freedom. Pick one thing, pick several things, pick none of it and just write me goopy fluff, I don't really care?

All I ask is please no downer endings or broken pairings unless you have a really good reason for it and/or are really confident in your writing skills. Also, tossing me fic recs for anything I've listed below works for me too!

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(Read the fic here!)

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(Set right after Heechul lovingly tells them to get off his train.)

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3-1/2 cups flour
2 cups of sugar
1-1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1-1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 can crushed pineapple
1/2 cup raisins or more
4 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil

Bake 325 degrees oven 30 to 45 minutes. Test with knife to come out clean.

Well, I found what I'm making for my birthday.

http://smittenkitchen.com/2007/03/the-best-chocolate-cake-expletive-free/

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Super fudgy. By far the most interesting batter I've ever worked with for a cookie in terms of velvety, smooth texture and taste. I literally could not stop myself from licking my fingers clean (I knead with my hands) and nearly made myself sick. I never do that, but I could not stop myself.

Try the pure-chocolate version fresh out of the oven and your knees will go weak. That's how intense these cookies are. Eating one is an incredibly guilt-inducing experience and is basically just eating a chocolate bar.

I am still tweaking this recipe, however (I've already modified it quite heavily from the original) and updating this post as I go.

Ingredients
1 cup unsalted butter (next time I want to try it with margarine tried it. No, these cookies just look like lumps, there's no helping them along with margarine or anything. Margarine just makes them taste less good, so avoid it if you can.)
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla (more can't hurt)
2 cups flour
2/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
3/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1 cup of dark chocolate chips (you might need more?)
1 cup of white chocolate chips (optional; alternatively, make it 2 cups of dark chocolate, but don't say I didn't warn you)
2 tsp cardamom (ground) (optional; I made a half-and-half batch, splitting the batter in half and adding 1tsp cardamom to one half of it. Both variations of this recipe are really delicious, although the non-cardamom, pure-chocolate version will basically stop your heart with chocolate goodness. You think I'm kidding. I'm not. It really did feel like I was dying slightly.)

Directions
Cream the sugar and eggs together in a large mixing bowl, then add the eggs and vanilla. In another, smaller bowl, mix together flour, cocoa, baking soda, salt, and (if adding it) cardamom. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix until well-combined, but be sure not to overmix. Stir in the chocolate chips. You'll probably have so many chocolate chips that the batter can't hold them all; that's normal. Bake at 350 degrees for 8 to 10 minutes; err on the side of undercooking. If you overcook them they get all cakey.

ENJOY.

The man speaks perfect Italian, rapid syllables that roll off of his tongue. It echoes slightly off of the silver water beneath them, sounds clearly over the muted rustling of boats and passerby. Kyuhyun leans back and feels the sun press against his closed eyelids, lulled by the heat and the gentle rocking of the gondola.

Zhou Mi falters for a moment as Kyuhyun slides down the seat until he's almost lying down, but he recovers quickly and the flow of words continues. "Ponte dei Sospiri," he says. Above the boat, there's a faint cry of greeting, followed by a slight shift in the boat's balance; Zhou Mi is waving back. This has happened several times in only the past few minutes. Vaguely, Kyuhyun wonders if the gondolier knows everyone in this city.

The boat falls into shadow as it passes underneath the bridge, the sound of swishing water amplified. Kyuhyun shivers in the sudden chill and opens his eyes. The man smiles down at him.

"You don't look Italian," Kyuhyun says in English. Zhou Mi's eyes brighten.

"Ah," he says, "he speaks!" Kyuhyun snorts. "Kui, Kyuhyun—" the accent makes his name take on a new sharpness. (He likes it). "Where are you from?"

"Los Angeles," Kyuhyun says.

The man nods. "So far," he says, "and you have come to Venice to—sleep?"

Kyuhyun laughs at that. The man's eyes twinkle. "You are tough to impress," the man says, dropping to a stage whisper. "So. I will show you something special."

Kyuhyun smirks, closes his eyes and rests his hands behind his head, settling in. "Try me," he says.

A few minutes later he's sitting up, staring wide-eyed at the gondolier as the song dies out. The man smiles, pleased.

"Okay," Kyuhyun says, "I'm impressed."

"Of course you are," Zhou Mi says, and gives a little bow without upsetting the boat's balance.