Inventing Constellations

Dead to the world and open to infinity.

Let’s do it all.

Let’s be diabolically seductive.

Let’s be the sensual apprentice to shared experience.

Let’s whisper to be easy on the ear. Let's breathe and touches that ultra sensitive lobe, glide down the body core, flutter the heart, warm the tan lines and stir latent arousals laying in wait.

The longest day of dark will be here soon. It’s so opposite of what we want. It’s exactly what we need.

Let’s acquire aural fire and write the worst words ever about desire and despair.

Let’s talk.

Let’s go primal.

Let’s get riled and listen to Korn.

Or Arcade Fire.

Anything that stirs us to inspire.

Give me the impossible power to edit myself.

Let’s stare at the thin winter sky and invent constellations.

The air is so thin, the sky is so close. Our breath is the vapor that distorts eons.

Oh no, I've said too much.

I have so much more to say. Interested?