iddavanmunster:

andmymouthisanhourglassofblood:

Brassai, Les Escaliers de Montmartre, Paris 1936             

iddavanmunster:

andmymouthisanhourglassofblood:

Brassai, Les Escaliers de Montmartre, Paris 1936             

(Source: tomb-and-temple)

She had sought such a moment throughout the world, where she might be quite alone, where no one might read on her face thoughts that she could not hide; where no one could plainly notice her walk was slow and sad, and miss the sound of her step when she could not walk any longer; a place where she might be forgotten and lost. She had sought to stand on the edge of another world, where her voice would make no warm sound, where her steps should not be heard, where she could follow streets without end, and see with lusterless eyes a life that could not be touched and felt like our own.
To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else’s heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.