Might’ve guessed it, but I did enjoy this night last, and aye I slept sound, in dreams of hands warm half past bearing (aye, but never unbearable, never less than wished for and I might here rightly invoke the fact of my own yearning for all you’ve spoke) (for burning and for shivers, and for waking up beside you, knowing silences gone full while Talik’s at my side) (clearest lacking of this morning’s waking up without you here with me, but eh, we’ll mend that also, given time and given changes toward circumstances, never rushed nor hasty) and in eyes like candle’s guiding lights.
Heard your voice within my sleep, that’s so, and knew my safety and my softness held in it.
This morning, pleased to report I’ve nary a hangover’s ache in sight, or nothing can’t be fixed with a few glasses’ water. Kicking myself still, that text unsent, and aye Talik, you’re Vevay’s sorry indeed to’ve crashed first without sending his goodnight.
Said it in my sleep to you, but then that’s never the same.
Shite and seeing I messed the words I meant to give you. Should’ve been ‘moj ukochany.’ Flummoxed the gender on that, state I was in, but here’s it put to rights
My Talik. My dear and my dearest Vitaly. Moj ukochany.
Better, that. Spoke the words aloud a few times, just to get it on my tongue. Spoke your name as well, as I’ve done daily and mean to carry on it saying.
Going to need finding better words for what you are to me in what passes for English (well and I know some words for it already, those that’ll keep themselves for holding til we speak, my Talik and I), but ‘ukochany’ catches my meaning set and certain, no denying.
Hope you got your own self into sleep, and that you’ve not been waked to overmuch chaos or discordance borne of footie or holes dug straight to center of the earth by dear Dodo.
Aye, and here before I go chattering for ages, there’s that you mentioned about conversations (or eh one long convo, suppose) with the lawyer and on complications. [ … ] Not pressing and no pushing, but if it’d something for cracking open now, your Vevay’s here with you. And if I do say so myself, I’ve a significant level more coherence for both cognition and talk than I brought to bear that last message of mine.
Worth saying happens I’m no stranger to complications, nor compunctions about facing em. And what faith I’ve got in you’s rooted lasting, runs deep, then deeper every word you send.
No fears, my Talik, and minced though I was last night, what I said then’s truth, that there’s not a thing we two can’t figure, nor’s that anything we can’t take on and best. Aye, I’ve got you, and you’ve got I, and Sergiy’ll be home sooner than not, so what’s to stand against us?
Nothing in the least, of course. Nor's there anything to keep us from that life ahead, long as it'll be, bright as it already shows.
sometime mid-morning
Might’ve guessed it, but I did enjoy this night last, and aye I slept sound, in dreams of hands warm half past bearing (aye, but never unbearable, never less than wished for and I might here rightly invoke the fact of my own yearning for all you’ve spoke) (for burning and for shivers, and for waking up beside you, knowing silences gone full while Talik’s at my side) (clearest lacking of this morning’s waking up without you here with me, but eh, we’ll mend that also, given time and given changes toward circumstances, never rushed nor hasty) and in eyes like candle’s guiding lights.
Heard your voice within my sleep, that’s so, and knew my safety and my softness held in it.
This morning, pleased to report I’ve nary a hangover’s ache in sight, or nothing can’t be fixed with a few glasses’ water. Kicking myself still, that text unsent, and aye Talik, you’re Vevay’s sorry indeed to’ve crashed first without sending his goodnight.
Said it in my sleep to you, but then that’s never the same.
Shite and seeing I messed the words I meant to give you. Should’ve been ‘moj ukochany.’ Flummoxed the gender on that, state I was in, but here’s it put to rights
My Talik. My dear and my dearest Vitaly. Moj ukochany.
Better, that. Spoke the words aloud a few times, just to get it on my tongue. Spoke your name as well, as I’ve done daily and mean to carry on it saying.
Going to need finding better words for what you are to me in what passes for English (well and I know some words for it already, those that’ll keep themselves for holding til we speak, my Talik and I), but ‘ukochany’ catches my meaning set and certain, no denying.
Hope you got your own self into sleep, and that you’ve not been waked to overmuch chaos or discordance borne of footie or holes dug straight to center of the earth by dear Dodo.
Aye, and here before I go chattering for ages, there’s that you mentioned about conversations (or eh one long convo, suppose) with the lawyer and on complications. [ … ] Not pressing and no pushing, but if it’d something for cracking open now, your Vevay’s here with you. And if I do say so myself, I’ve a significant level more coherence for both cognition and talk than I brought to bear that last message of mine.
Worth saying happens I’m no stranger to complications, nor compunctions about facing em. And what faith I’ve got in you’s rooted lasting, runs deep, then deeper every word you send.
No fears, my Talik, and minced though I was last night, what I said then’s truth, that there’s not a thing we two can’t figure, nor’s that anything we can’t take on and best. Aye, I’ve got you, and you’ve got I, and Sergiy’ll be home sooner than not, so what’s to stand against us?
Nothing in the least, of course. Nor's there anything to keep us from that life ahead, long as it'll be, bright as it already shows.