love.
i need technical, clinical jargon.
when it comes to mindless passion,
meaningless natural primal lust;
when love is a temperature a body cannot live without,
when it is the tea you drink,
the air you breathe,
the bed you sleep on,
the cells and cavities you are made of;
it is a spell likened to witchcraft.
it is a taboo,
it is sex and all the more physical.
love is undefined.
so is written on the body.
a great dreamy read i must say;
of prose and all about love and loving.
last night i fell asleep before i could finish the book, (still i am taking my own sweet blissful time.)
and i lapsed into a dream of red succulent cherries and sweet summer.
" "Explore me," you said and i collected my ropes, flasks and maps, expecting to be home soon. I dropped into the mass of you and i cannot find the way out. Sometimes i think i'm free, coughed up like Jonah from the whale, but then i turn a corner and recognise myself again. Myself in your skin, myself lodged in your bones, myself floating in the cavities that decorate every surgeon's wall. That is how i know you. You are what i know. "
Jeanette Winterson, "THE CELLS, TISSUES, SYSTEMS AND CAVITIES OF THE BODY ", Written on the Body
when it comes to mindless passion,
meaningless natural primal lust;
when love is a temperature a body cannot live without,
when it is the tea you drink,
the air you breathe,
the bed you sleep on,
the cells and cavities you are made of;
it is a spell likened to witchcraft.
it is a taboo,
it is sex and all the more physical.
love is undefined.
so is written on the body.
a great dreamy read i must say;
of prose and all about love and loving.
last night i fell asleep before i could finish the book, (still i am taking my own sweet blissful time.)
and i lapsed into a dream of red succulent cherries and sweet summer.
" "Explore me," you said and i collected my ropes, flasks and maps, expecting to be home soon. I dropped into the mass of you and i cannot find the way out. Sometimes i think i'm free, coughed up like Jonah from the whale, but then i turn a corner and recognise myself again. Myself in your skin, myself lodged in your bones, myself floating in the cavities that decorate every surgeon's wall. That is how i know you. You are what i know. "
Jeanette Winterson, "THE CELLS, TISSUES, SYSTEMS AND CAVITIES OF THE BODY ", Written on the Body
