Passion.

“He was like some bland sky looking down at her and waiting for her storm to spend itself. If he, like an equally primitive animal, had appeared at the other end of this desert, facing her with the same electric tension of hair, skin, and eyes, if he had appeared with the same jungle body, treading heavily and wanting some pretext to leap out, embrace in fury, feel the warmth and strength of his opponent, then they might have rolled down together and the biting might have become of another sort, and the bout might have turned into an embrace, and the hair-pulling might have brought their mouths together, their teeth together, their tongues together. And out of the fury their genitals might have rubbed against each other, drawing sparks, and the two bodies would have had to enter each other to end this formidable tension.” – Anais Nin, Delta of Venus, Chapter 13

“What have you given me?”

“A roof over your head.”

“And now I can’t see the stars.”

“Food to eat.”

“It has no flavor.”

“Clothes on your back.”

“I prefer to be naked. Why don’t you?”

“You want for nothing.”

“I want you.”

“And you have me.”

“Do I?”

“I’m right here.”

“Are you?”

“What else could you possibly need?”

“Passion.”

“Passion..?”

“The kind that lights the night sky,

the kind that quells my hunger,

the kind where clothing is an obstacle

not a luxury.”

a.duncan 2016

 

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"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

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