December 2009
On Passion
Contrary to the sentiments of a certain genre of romantic song, passion is not something that lasts forever, like an immovable stone or eternal monument. It is something living, breathing, and therefore something that can conceivably die.
Think of the most universally accepted image of passion—that of a roaring, consuming fire. Would you expect any fire, no matter how large or hot, to burn...
Yes
bendingsumbission:
Your neck. How your back arches when I kiss it. How you grind against me without thought. Without shame. Without judgement. This is pure.
Of course I want to fuck you where you stand. But there is so much more in you. I want to draw everything hidden in that little body out. To slowly wreck you, with patience.
Teeth on your neck now. I want to pick you up with them. Carry...
“Chastity: The most unnatural of the sexual perversions”
– Aldous Huxley, Eyeless in Gaza, 1936 (via art-or-porn)
“Nymphomaniac: a woman as obsessed with sex as an average man”
– Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic’s Notebook, 1960 (via art-or-porn)
“Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to...”
– Butterfly, in The Last Unicorn (via milktrees) (via suicideunderground) (via dreamboatcourtney)
