knock, knock. (come in genesis.) it is he who bears us the tale of adam and eve, commanding them to be fruitful and to multiply, throwing in a tempting serpent slier than every beast of the field. 'let us make man,' here, under the tree of knowledge within the ribs of a woman..."and the eyes of the two of them were opened."
drunk love: the kind of intoxication that seems bearable; the state-of-mind that seems acceptable; a quasi-physiological syndrom of addiction that seems so, ...perfect. i've questioned it before, but is this what 'love' really is? an addiction? when one requires a great amount of substance in order to obtain a desired effect? do the manifestations and tolerance stay the same? allow me to comprehend, for i am puzzled.
i once met a man, his body covered in art so soft and supple. i would kiss his pictures in complete darkness, when i couldn't see them, until i faced a dragon taking him until we were quiet on the sheets. and if by instinct i would glare at his fire throbbing from his throat, speechless yet seared to ashes ...
"oh happy dagger! this is my sheath; there rust, and let me die..." and let me stick you into my mouth, the way i load my pistol pulling back the top barrel loading bullets into fire chambers, as you sit there and watch me inhale.
(because it'll be the biggest god damn breath i've ever had to take.)
