Tell him…
That you love him
That you long for his body
You are ecstasy. He, the fantasy.
Court him…
There are things that he likes
Invest shrewdly; you cannot lose
You are the music. He, the lyric.
Touch him…
Seduce him incessantly
Use his body, he is yours
You are Qetesh… He, Pothos.
If you can manage it
Except when you make love to her
Do not make her cry often.
In retrospect I suffer wisdom
Because I learned the hard way
Tears make up your love in her heart.
Every time you make her cry
You deplete her love for you
Happy tears though, fill love back up.
They get ‘cried – out’ sir
Then they feel nothing
Indifference is the opposite of love.
Everything happens in, and for a season
Every word for a reason.
Loyalty, I fear, is a an expensive tradeoff
Apportion trust deliberately thereof.
Protect yourself at all times
Against love, religion – all the sublimes!
To be forewarned is but divine courtesy
Lips ultimately leak evil you cannot see.
Even if you currently have no clue
Read again, and glean a truth or two.
“…Ego, the anesthesia that deadens the pain of stupidity…”
“…Pride is the burden of a foolish person…”
Yet you; my lovely stupid foolishness, are my obligatory burden.
D. O-B
If I did not do it
It would not get done.
It was always me
In retrospect, I was.
I was the catalyst
I was the reactant
I was the reaction that set off our chainreaction
In retrospect, I was.
I was the romance
I was the lust
I was the dominant bankroll
In retrospect, I was.
If I do not do it
Why can you not?
I Am always me
Why, oh why will you not? !
If I did not do it
It would not get done.
It was always me
In retrospect, I was.
The devil before us
Deep sea behind
Enemies within
There are such times.
No rustle, nor jingle
No relief, or release
No love, no lust
These too, shall pass.
Mimic water
To thyself be true
Embrace the true Light
And from those ashes you will rise!
When what is, should not
And what ought, is yet
Then what could, would
So what is, ought not.
