I hope when I'm ninety-five the only things I want are free: love, family, a good home-cooked meal.
I hope when I'm ninety-five the only things I want are free: love, family, a good home-cooked meal.
As he fills me, I wonder ifùin the same way that sex makes its own unique perfumeùwe donÆt really ômakeö love. As in create, manufacture, evoke an independent element in the air around us, and if enough of us did it really well, for real, not just for the hell of it, we could change the world. Because when heÆs in me, I feel the space around us changing, charging, and it seems to set off some kind of feedback loop, where the more he touches me, the more I need him to.
Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset, to touch the one you love, to try again. ôHell would be waking up and wanting nothing,ö he agrees.
On the lips of my enemy, my sisterÆs lover, my loverÆs killer, I taste the punishment I deserve. I taste oblivion.
One day you do meet a man who kisses you and you canÆt breathe around it and you realize you donÆt need air. Oxygen is trivial. Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset. To touch the one you love. To try again.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories