I am the woman and I am subtly shy of my own nature. I am the woman and I am forceful
in my openness. I am the woman and I stand guard beside the fountain.
I have expanded beyond the narrow limits of my original carnal vehicle. With each
movement of expansion, I am more filled with gentleness, compassion and a sweet kind of
understanding that may miss the rational point, tinged with the flavor of steel, but will
catch your real impulse in my warm embracing arms.
I have drunk deep from the wells of madness and I have been stung fiercely by the
metallic wasps of reason. From all this I have emerged as a bubbling container of
whimsical joy, a gushing fountain of lust packed in a soft web of tenderness. I sit
crosslegged and ring the bell with eyes closed. I cry now with eyes half open. I smile
with lips that curl inwards and I sob with the trembling of my cheeks. I bring the flower
of contentment, the treasure that sits at the roots, safely guarded in its invisibility,
quietly resting in its eternal harvest.
Kiss me softly when you meet me. Push yourself inside me, but caress my exposed heart
only with your kindest breath. Let me love you as you could only love yourself.