I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; Feed where thou wilt, on mountains or in dale; Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie. -W.S. 1593-
Within the furthest reaches of the heart lie those desires whos name one dares not speak. So seductive, so intoxicating, so indulgent, our most private passions burn at the molten core of our being, luring us to the very heights of ecstasy and depths of despair. Through the ages, the words of impassioned lovers have transformed a virginal sheet of paper into a sanctuary for a restless heart. Each of the pages in this journal awaits the expression of your own desires-unedited, undiluted, uninhibited. Abandon yourself. If you dare.
I'm known as Worthless Pink, possession of Fonce of the Tuchuk. Welcome to the world of struggle, faith, love and lessons. This is the story of a journey of breaking from the shell of what was and blossoming into what I now must be. For him. For myself. For his way of life. For what is now my way of life.
0 comments:
Post a Comment