my heart,

our companion is this breathing vessel;

with whom we must be patient and,

concede to her appetite.

call these desires what you will;

they are necessary in the

balance.

it is, after all, the carnal urges of this flesh,

the urges of instinct,

of impulse,

that keep us alive.

and if we deny the

impulses of those impious proclivities,

we may never realize their

purpose.

oh heart,

a mood of morose but firm resolution is instilled in me upon a certain discomforting realization.

there lurks an elusive mistress in the innermost crevice of our abyss;

beyond objectives of iniquity

and conversely of benevolence,

who spawns an ineffable within the conscience than that of darkest night.

it would seem, Eve’s temptation in the Garden

is not so far removed from us, my heart.

indeed, her spirit has made its presence known and

it is incumbent upon us to honor her demands

else, she will surely sabotage our every venture!

thus, if we are to take our fill of

literature, music and art

then, it is rational and prudent that we also

nourish our counterpart proportionately;

for if she wanes we wane, as well.

[ Photo feature: Die Sinnlichkeit (Sensuality) by Franz von Stuck 1889-1891 ]

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