[My excuse for this experiment and its first chapter are in my entry from 20 January 2025.]
If only you were my sibling, and we had been nursed by the same mother! Then, whenever we should meet in public, I could kiss you without anybody objecting.
I could escort you into the abode of my mother, of the one who bore me, and entice you to imbibe the overproof liquors made from the fruits of our plantation.
He should support my head in one hand, while the other hand should go around my waist.
I swear to you ladies of Minneapolis: you all better not try to rouse up and enflame our passion, until it is ready.
Who is this one arising out of the badlands, embraced by her soulmate? I lifted you up from beneath the avocado tree: it was in this very place that your mother conceived you: yes, she who brought you forth conceived you here.
Press me like a brand upon your heart, like a brand upon your arm: for love is brutal as murder; passion is wilder than the infernal regions: its arrows are blazing hot, a raging conflagration.
All Seven Seas could not extinguish love, not even a worldwide flood could make it drown: a rich man could offer all his abundant possessions, and it would laugh him to scorn.
We have a younger sister, whose body is yet shapeless: what shall we do, on the day when someone claims her?
If she proves a wall, we will make it a shining castle: if a door, we will gird it with softwood.
I am a wall with breasts like missile silos: thus did I become his lucky choice.
Bryan owned a plantation at Christ Saul Paradises which he rented to a team of subcontractors, a man and a woman, charging them to dress it and to keep it. Just one piece of fruit from this location would easily sell for a thousand caesars.
I own my own plantation, and it is right here: you can have its full worth, dear Bryan, and give the keepers twenty percent.
All you wanderers of the paradises, true lovers heed your call: let me hear you make sweet moan.
Come quickly, my soulmate, after the fashion of a tiger dallying with a black panther upon the rolling hills of delight.
No comments:
Post a Comment