the lost man chronicles
book two: the art of love


I want to know

I want to know how you are when you are near to me, I want to know how you communicate with a simple and lingering touch, I want to know that you are much more willing to accept that we should divulge only what is necessary, rather than what others normally find necessary to spew, just enough to keep each other intrigued, and not beleaguer each other with the trivial details of our common and menial existence. I want to know which flowers pique you, or least stimulate your senses, and send wafts of chemical rapture through all of you.

Moreover, I'm interested in the air that you breathe, in what you read, in the thoughts that transpire. I'm interested in those eyes that ignite desire and that look of yours that hooks and drags me through the mire of lecherous longing. I'm interested in belonging to you, as a lover, as a friend, as a confidant, and then again, as a lover. I'm interested in getting lost in the sands of time with you and making dreams come true as your lover.

And lover to me means a lot of things, not simply libidinal, for if anything it is simply the idea that the whole of a desire which one has to spend upon another with time and words and emotion lasts longer than getting to and through the first argument. I don't like to argue, calm and compromise are key to all that is good and meaningful to more than one person.




the art of living the art of living the beginning the art of love the list


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