Wednesday, 17 April 2013


There is a soft hand touching my back. It's gently moving up and down, on it's way up I can feel the blunt part of the finger tips. On it's way down, it's nothing but skin. I wonder, which way I prefer. I can't decide which one is better. I hope, that these sensations will continue long enough for me to decide, and longer still for me to enjoy my knowledge of the preferred.

There is a breath in my ear, it says I Love You. The touch hasn't stopped. God, if you look upon me now know that Samurai have killed themselves for less. This moment can never be repeated. This pure joy and ecstasy can't last. I might as well stop after this moment. Nothing will top it. I'm in love, and there is no tomorrow.

Passion is to suffer, to suffer is to live. A life without passion is no life at all.

Don't take me back to the old moments. Don't push me back in to a world that doesn't hold on to this. Don't. Please, I need this.

Passion is to suffer, to suffer is to live. 

I'm not alive without this. I wasn't alive before this.

I'm meant to live without it.

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