''What you call cruelty,'' the Goddess of love retorted,'' is the very substance of sensual and natural love. It is woman's true nature to give herself wherever she loves and to love whatever pleases her.''
Memories are warm, like milk.
I coughed and I sank in the silk; bliss.
Sweet remnants of a kiss.
The hush of a heartbeat, the hush of a scent comes crawling back,
in the ribbons of a flower whilst I writhe;
loins burning, lions rearing.
A protective sex is emerging, lying in the fragments of sand.
Glittering microbes,
give me your hand.
Love, a temptation?
We no longer let ourselves be loved.
Because when we love and when we're loved, we're dangerous – we come alive – love makes us come alive and it makes us true, true to our own hearts and to others, love makes us calm and truthful, and the society in which we live is afraid of that, because it's a damage to the system.
Love reeks havoc on capitalism, so the system drowns it out of us, it sucks the life from us and leaves us lifeless and loveless..afraid of touch and truth for fear of offending anyone.
Lambs little ears are perched,
undoing silent buttons in the background.
I feel no hurts, I make no sound.
The body I am in is mine.
Beg to take rest in a bed full of riddles and charms.
How could we ever unravel a riddle, without first ever knowing our hearts.
''...but if one of you so much as dares to kiss my crimson lips..
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