Saturday, April 6, 2013

I feel your hunger, love. I'm sure they'd approve. For who are they, those insignificant dregs of the upper echelons?  And us? What of us? Love, is it not enough? Am I not enough? Surely, certainly. Acquiesce, love. And with acceptance, strip forever this stubborn shadow of doubt. Which has hung over the beast of us. And grown, parasitically.

These fleeting glimpses of passion, these minuscule moments of ecstasy have proved insufficient. I can longer let us be contained. Here, a jack in a box. Let us take the world by surprise. Men who have sinned are troubled. Their conscience eats them whole. And yet, a man who has only loved? This is no sin. Surely, certainly.

They refuse, you say? I ask again, who are they, those insignificant? If you deem me worthy of your body, who are they, those insignificant, to decide otherwise? What vulgar joy is derived from this enforced confinement. 

Ignorance has robbed my sanity. Ignorance of boundaries we will never find, for we are forever bounded. 


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