Next time, bring your wine. Drink with me with til weβre sloppy– drunk with truth and love and hate. Say all the things we darenβt say. Laugh, cry, beat my chest with your fists. Then make hard, truthful love to me. Gnash your teeth. Take as you need. Feed.
I have felt like this before.
I’m glad you have. It’s a beautiful place to be. Real.
That’s an interesting perspective. For me, this is a place of anger and need mixed with love. It is energetic but maybe not the happiest place to be. At least how I interpret this place. But yes, real.
I suppose I mean beautiful in its authenticity.
yes, true. Beautiful for the getting to the truth and being authentic in one’s feelings. I like that place. I need that place but authentic is hard for so many.
hell, we’ve been trained not to be..
hence the wine! π
Lol
You got me at wine π
Lol. That was easy π
I’m a simple girl. π
π
Raw, powerful emotion. I like it. A lot.
Thank you π
Sexy;)
Reminds me of being a student again – so little wine, so many girls!
Lol. I’ve no doubt they often beat you with their fists, as in the poem.. π Couldn’t resist.
Did you say: “Beat me off”? π
Lol! Perhaps. I wouldn’t be privy to intimate knowledge of such. If you say so.. π
To tell you the truth – beer and whiskey made one one of the boys, but a knowledge and appeciation of red wine…now that got me some distance down the feral path of Love.
I can see that. Red wine is magical.