!:?
!: I want to lose myself in the never-ending fractals of your being. I want to obliterate your ego as you obliterate mine, so we re-emerge as one. I want to hear your mind in its death-throes as we are united in sexual ecstasy, assuring our mutual destruction.
I bet your lips are seasoned with chaos, how I wish mine could meet them in a mind-exploding tangle of shared mycelium. Perhaps your flesh would be as soft and tender as the mushrooms we’d eat together. I’d slowly bite off pieces of you and take you as my sacrament.
You are gaining a place in my heart and I wish it could be a place in my head and in my bed.
?: Why is it not in your head, if in your heart…are they not one in the same? Intellect is only pure with love; otherwise it is a matter of material, collecting thoughts and patterns which never again touch the whole.
Oh my love, to touch you would be divine, to share with you even closer still, but my heart breaks and is ripped from me. Day after day, I suffer.
!: I do not wish for you to suffer. It is this reason I strive to unite to you. For every tear which falls from your eye falls into the pools of my heart.
?: You chip away a little of my shield with every word you say.
!: I long for a time when no tears remain and when our eyes share tears together, for tears without you are more sorrowful.
?: And together we could create oceans.
!: As with the gentle hand of a sculptor, I do not wish to remove your shield completely but to sculpt it into the goddess you are. I do not love the marble because it is blank, but because of the statue I see within.
The voids I create within you shall define you and when I am finished all there is will see your beauty and be envious, for you have always lived within the artist’s mind. He has longed after you but never has a suitable piece of marble been found. And when he has found the perfect piece, he will pay a great price, knowing its true value.
?: I do not need a beauty such as that. My only wish is that all of us together, are one, never envious but encouraging, so we might reach the perfection of our potential.
!: I long for my hands on your flesh, soft and supple beneath them. With every caress I will mold your heart and knead it like clay. And I will add my own heart of clay to yours and together we will sculpt a heart of love and tenderness.
?: What arose this perfect desire in you? These beautiful words, where did they come from? For you have never spoken to me this way before. What you are is beautiful, and what you offer is true, so why do you not use this passion, this fire, to fuel your purpose?
!: It comes from love, which I hide away and share with few. Like a greedy old miser, I hide it away in my cupboards, my safes, and my strong boxes. I fear others might steal it away from me, and my coffers grow full.
?: But love should be made available to all, especially your love which envelopes me so. It could be amplified to envelope the whole world and make it a little brighter.
!: I cannot share it with all. The smallest thing can tear you from my love, cut you off, strike you down, and make you unworthy. It would not be love if given to all. It would not be special when shared with you. What I offer you I’ve given to few, perhaps only one and never to myself. I’ve never desired to give myself as completely as I wish to do with you. It pains me to think this love cannot yet overcome the space which separates us.
?: So the smallest thing would cause your love for me to be tainted? Then it is not love. It is desire, yes. Thrilling and exotic, but love is and will be always and if I do something which changes that within you, then it is not love.
!: Desire it is not, for there is nothing which can be done to stop the flow of love from my heart.
?: You cause me to burn from the inside-out. Just the faint glimmer of passion, of feverish desire. This love coils around my spine, beckoning me to take a plunge headfirst into your essence.
!: Can one corke up the springs which gush forth from the earth? Who is so mighty to damn the rivers for all eternity? Nothing can hold back the floodwaters bashing at the levies of my heart.
I want to take that spark of passion within you and with a breath, ignite a feverish flame which could burn down cities, such flames which rival those of Rome!
But not only that but the fires of camps and of the home. A fire that would bring us warmth, comfort, and happiness. Not just the fires of passion but of peace, love, and security. Fires which flicker atop candles and embers which burn in pipe-fulls of sticky ganja.
?: The fires of the hearth which old within the practical essence of love, a building of life with love’s primal essence. The emperor to the empress. He shapes her divine insight into something real, tangible, and lasting.
!: I am such a selfish bastard, but have never found myself wanting to share so much with anyone. We share so much already; words, pictures, love, and even the distance which separates us. And I would rather share our distance than nothing at all.
?: My mind twists and turns at the thought, not of sadness but of eager impatience. Why can it not be this moment or the next? Why must we wait the days until we can be together in the same space, the same long stretch of time? The ticking of the Dragon’s clock beats so loud in my head like drums or the very heartbeat of the earth, limiting my spectrum. I know that we have only a shortness in which to meet, in which to experience the transience of love. Only moments with you, touching your soul with my fingertips and taking home with me forever, a piece of you.
!: Oh how I long for it! I pray we can meet, and share a time. I would cause those mere moments to last an eternity so we could be in that time forever. In my dreams I would travel back to taste your sweet kisses and feel your caresses, your hands plunged deep within the recesses of my soul. They would pull out particles of soul-sand to place in a bottle and keep with you always.
I long for that moment like no other. Your words awaken that which was asleep in me, soft beautiful words which penetrate more than the sharpest of swords. And now that it has awakened, I tremble in fear. It is not a terror-filled one, but a fear I relish in.
?: It is a fear which molds you stronger. I only want you to see yourself as I see you and to use that essence for everything that you do, everything that you are, and everything you are meant to become.
!: This love is made of grains of soul, innumerable. They tick away and slip through the hourglass…it is my will to share them with you. I love you with all of my heart, and will think of you.
?: I love you and think of you always. I mean it when I tell you that in anguish I envision your face and am made calm, a feeling of wholeness.
!: Picture me always then, until such time as we can meet face to face, heart to heart, flesh to flesh, and soul to soul.
