There is passion. Follow it.
But passion cannot be confined to one or any other thing.
When I think of love, I can't constrain it to any single asset of life.
Romance even holds to more than sex.
Sex can happen between any person for any number of reasons,
but romance is red wine - candle light - brooding over a page alone.
Love is helpless, selfless, selfish desire. I desire passion.
Passion consumes.
Passion is hopeless, but never hopelessness. It's desperate, but not grasping.
It's a closed rose - any color.
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2 comments:
In the earth or a cut stem?
that's yours.
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