gold dust

• tori amos'un en hissederek soyledigine inandigim sarkisi. genc bi hatun bu sarkidan ve buyuk ihtimalle duygudan etkilenip, bi hikaye dahi yazmistir.
  
  auburn crimson
  
  why, why, why don't you fear the lake any more? that makes no sense to me, darling, that's just crazy, but then what about this is normal? skipping lessons so we can run down to the water's edge, and, love, the wind in your hair and the way it curls, you know i never knew it waved like that before? we thought it was just messy and uncared for and that you didn't brush it enough, but it's beautiful, the way it's caught on the breeze like silk streamers, whipping behind your head as we run, and into your eyes, and tangling with mine, and why do i love you so much? i don't know why i love you, but someone once asked me what colour is love? and i said auburn crimson, because of your hair, and they asked me what it smelled like, and i said cherry blossoms, and i was lost then, remembering the time you took my hand (and are you as amazed as i am at the way our fingers fit together? curling and curving in just the right places, like two adjacent pieces of jigsaw, and how my palm warms yours and yours cools mine until they're so close and so alike it's impossible to tell where we end and begin) and ran with me, down past the lake you used to hate so much, and how warmly the sun was shining through the flowers as we made love beneath a canopy of pink and white, and you started laughing about something, i forget what it was that delighted you so much, and i watched the way the muscles danced behind the snow-pale, sweat-beaded skin of your naked stomach, but only momentarily because you reached for me then and pulled me on top of you and kissed me, and that's as much as i remember. i forget what it's like when you kiss me. it's too beautiful for memories, and so perhaps this is why i do it so often. but i remember after, when you rested your head against my thigh (and it's silly, i know it's silly, but i was horrified for a moment that your sun-warmed hair was tumbling between my legs in a tempest of lava and getting as wet as the fingers which were tracing gentle, idle patterns around my navel) and asked if i had them, and i didn't need to answer because you knew i had them, you were just looking for reassurance that i love you more than i love life. i had my camera with me (or rather, noel's camera. he let me borrow it) and i took yet another photograph of you then, with your hair across me like a crazy modern eve in a cherry-blossom eden, freezing that frame and tucking the print beneath my unneeded raincoat with its sisters.
  
  and so that summer dragged on and it seemed like forever, but those six weeks of eternity ended like all things do, and your aunt alice sent us to hogsmeade to take a room at the inn for the night. spend it together, she said softly as she hugged us both. make some memories to get yourselves through the term. she laughed when we blushed, and then cried when you kissed me.
  
  we walked through the village that august evening, and the sights and sounds pulled us back through the years to the time we were enemies. it seemed so distant, but so uncomfortable, just so wrong that we were once apart. twilight held us in her palm and kissed us with the gentle breath of dying summer, and once you began to cry you couldn't stop. we sat on the grass by the churchyard wall, and the last vestiges of sunset disappeared from your hair until it looked as black as you felt, and that's when all hope left me and my tears joined yours, mingling on our faces in salty smudges, cooled by the breeze then warmed by our sobbing breaths. i told you i was here, i wasn't leaving, and you knew that, and you held me so tight, but what would we do tomorrow when you were back in school and i was working in london?
  
  then the gaslights flickered on and hope came flying back, swooping and diving past the glow in the street, coming to rest on our wall. your hair, darling, your beautiful hair, it was illuminated by the soft light (a halo, angel, although i hate to steal will's pet name), and i touched it, i threaded my fingers through it, wound its silken threads around my hands, stroked and played and gently tugged until you were smiling again, until you were turning to me and brushing your lips up my jaw and across my ear, until you pulled me to my feet and sat me on the wall and kissed me with such fervency that i began to cry again (and speaking of beginnings, isn't that where our silly kink-contest with will and noel began? when you lifted my skirt around my waist and pushed my knickers to one side and kissed me there, and we were too loud and we had to vault the wall and hide behind a gravestone when somebody came to investigate? you were giggling even as your tongue pressed hard against me, and i was laughing and crying and gasping and i don't know what, no longer mindful of our audience (i saw louis myers and charles fiennes the following week in gringotts, and they teased me awfully. highly unprofessional of them, of course, but i was no longer a student so i don't suppose it matters), letting names hang in the air as you slid a shaking finger inside me, stroking and kissing away my unhappiness, if only for a few blissful moments?)
  
  nothing made sense to me. i mean, you and i. it never had, not since that very first kiss. it wasn't until we were forced apart by circumstance, by your return to school and my first job, that i really began to understand. it was love, darling, and love doesn't make sense. it drops into one's life, as gentle ad natural as summer dew like with will and noel, or as sudden and as heavy as an entire winter's snow falling off a steep roof, like ours, and there's nothing one can do but yield to it. there is nothing stronger, nothing more frightening and nothing more beautiful than love (there's you, of course, you're more beautiful (and frightening) than anything, but since you're my love i don't think it counts). distance doesn't dilute it, like a sliver of butter spread too thin over a slice of bread, nor time apart weaken it. remember those six eternal weeks, darling, and think this: if that was eternity, how much will we be able to do with the rest of our lives?
  
  how did it go so fast? you said, as we were looking back. you turned under the blankets, from your back to your side, and i held you so close, and we were so quiet. it felt, i don't know why, that tears would cheapen it. it felt, and i really don't know why, that sex would cheapen it, and so we were still all night, breathing each other's breath, holding each other's hand, and as august became september and dawn broke the night sky open in a brilliant blaze and the sun shone through the net curtains onto your body, that's when i understood it all. i traced my nail across you, joining the tiny specks with pressure lines a shade lighter than your skin. we held gold dust in our hands, darling, all these years, and we never knew it. we never knew how to be in love, we never understood it.
  
  i think i get it now. do you?
  
  end.
• tori amos u oyle cok sevmeyen birisinin bile;
  and somewhere alfie cries
  and says "enjoy his every smile
  you can see in the dark
  through the eyes of laura mars"
  
  misralarinin soylenis bicimi ile tori amosu bir tanrica olarak gorup aglamaya baslayacagi efsanevi sarki..bana bi cok sevdiim sarkiyi hatirlatiyor..bi cok acimi hatirlatiyor..bi cok gulusumu..bi cok opusumu..bi cok dususumu hatirlatiyor.."long live and prosper queen amos"
• scarlets walk'ın en hüzünlü, en güzel, en son parçası.
• bu sarki ,dilimin ucuna bin bir turlu guzel kelime getirip hic birini cumleye dokmeme izin vermez nitelikte bir tori isidir -ki anlatmakla olmaz yasamak lazimdir dize dize.
• tori amos'u geçmiş kavramını evirip çevirmek konusunda belki bir woolf belki bir sevim burak kadar yetenekli olduğunu düşündüren, erkek egemen kelime yapılarını yaramaz bir kız çocuğu edasıyla kırıp kırıp durduğu başka bir bıççakk...
• (bkz: gold dust woman)
• sahip olduğumuz çoğu güzelliğin kıymetini kaybetmeye yakın yahut kaybettiğimiz vakit anlarız, idrak ederiz. sebebiniyse bilemeyiz, bilemem, nadirdir kıymet bilinen zamanlar.
  
  tori'nin bu özel hediyesiyse hep hatırlatmak isteyendir; ellerimizdeki o altın değerindeki dakikaları, sahip olduklarımızı. anlatmak istedikleri pek değerli olsa da, hissettirdikleri acıdır çoğu zaman nedense. duygulanır, yapmak isteyip de geride bıraktıklarını hatırlar insan. ve lakin hep devam eder yoluna, yanındaysa yine bu parça vardır.
• bitmis bir paylasimi, iliskiyi-ask olmasi sart degil elbet- anlatan sarki. eskinin yeniyi baltaladigi durumlarda dinlenmesi sakincalidir, hem eski hem yeni icin.
• insanın kendisini bıçakla kesip zevk alması gibi garip bir şey tekrar tekrar dinlemek.
  çok keskin bir bıçakla şefkatli ama derin kesikler bırakan sözler...
  ve kanadıkça zevk veriyor,
  kesinlikle...
• uykusuzluğa hiç de iyi gelmeyen şarkı. insanın beyin kıvrımlarında binlerce anı çığlık atıyor. bir de elindeki son altın tozları da tamamen gökyüzüne karışmışsa orası çok fena. bu şarkı adamı , kahvede okey oynarken damdan tepesine buzağı düşmüş gibi yapar. uzun uzun zamandır bir kere bile acımadı kereta,bir kere bile hoş görmedi. her dinleyişte yıktı geçti. hep aynı tesir. yenecem seni tori! bir gün sana laflar hazırlarım,çıkarım karşına. bir zamanlar aşk fakiri ama gururlu bir genç vardı derim,utanırsın.
  yaaa yaaaaa...