monday There is a great debate that has been raging for years: does the week start on a Sunday or a Monday? Advertisements
You give me no fever. That, you must understand, is the difficult part. You give me no fever — I do not dream of the sinuous curves of your legs twining about mine
I become universes in your arms
The first sensation you have upon waking is pressure. No, wait, that’s not right. It’s more than just pressure; it’s The Pressure. And sometimes, you can’t even breathe.
“9/11 happened. And then so did I.”
“You say that you love but your love comes with strings attached. It comes with rules (it can happen only with this or that), it comes with boundaries (it allows up to this or that) and it comes with limits (I cannot forgive this or that). Mine doesn’t work that way.
“Don’t admire me. Respect me, yes, but don’t look up to me — look at me! I’m not a clever character in a book or a play; I’m not a statue or a god; I’m not anything more than anybody else. I’m a person, a person who works hard, tries hard, and gets lucky, same … Continue reading
I enter the bedroom, lit only by a sliver of light peeking through a misaligned shade and I am frozen by the sight of you, a dark blanket made of night slung over your hips and slipped off your shoulder to reveal the glowing curve of your breast and the hint of a pebbled edge…
She found the word “exquisite” to be exciting. Each syllable building upon the last: the setup, the action, the exhalation of satisfaction. “You,” she said, “I find you to be exquisite. You, a complete scene of desire. You, a personification of passion.”