The Book of Chaos: Lust and Love

I admit this might be a bit much,
but, to be clear
the title of this journal
is called The Book of Chaos
and so . .
in fairness to the topic, yes
I think that both love and lust
and the interchangeableness
of the two
can be enough to drive anyone crazy.

And, so . . .

Yes, sure.
I am crazy. And I’m wild too.
But what can you expect?
I am also in love
and I am in love with love.
I am in love with every aspect of love
including the feel we get
when we lay between the sheets.

I am in love with a connection
that cannot be copied
or replicated
or produced in any unnatural way.

I am in love with the way
two people can “be”
and no one else in the world
could match this feeling.
No one else could feel this good.
No one else could create this result
or promote such a feeling
nor could anyone else in the world
match or provide a passion
as beautiful as this.

This is The Book of Chaos,
which means that yes,
love can lead to something crazy
or, love can make us crazy.

So, yes,
I am crazy (for you)
Guilty as charged.

However, I admit it.
I have thoughts that lead my mind
into a thousand different directions,
and sometimes, my thoughts lead me astray,
and the directions can be unfortunate
but my love is still true.

I have thoughts, which are unfair
and there are times when I allow
myself to entertain the unfortunate
that does nothing else
but provide me with a personal disservice.

But, sometimes,
I admit that my thoughts
can lead me to different scenarios of lust,
and yes, of course,
my thoughts are of love as well
because oftentimes, love and lust
can be interchangeable,
especially when it comes to make up sex
and sometimes love and lust
can be the same thing.

I do think of ideas,
like the ones that come with an intimate heat,
which comes to me from a night after dancing,
sweating beneath a hot night
and a full moon,
the music is the kind that pushes us closer.

And here comes the ideas
that flicker in the mind like a candle,
or like the moment when she finishes
the last of her wine,
and there’s a tiny puddle in the lower belly
of her wine glass,
like a pool of a red,
or like a tiny concave of burgundy,
which is a little wine remaining in the glass,
and she, being the object of my desire –
or she being the inspiration
to the feel beneath my skin, or when I say “she,”
I mean “she” being the source
and the reason and the purpose
as to why I am standing tall
and at full attention;
and since she is the reason
why my heartbeat is pounding or why my lust
is unquenchable,
I look at her through the eyes of a wild heart,
beating for her, and pounding
like an army’s drum
thumping with a sensation that cannot be satisfied
nor will I be denied because, of course,
if she chooses, then it would be me
who enjoys the feel of her skin.

If she permits,
it would be me who enjoys the right
to explore her body, to touch her
or to appreciate her curves,
and to touch her
or to find her button
and push it.

If she allows,
it would be me who has the honor
to enjoy her body
as if she is truly the nectar of the earth
and I, if allowed and if given the chance,
then I swear to her
that I would sip every drop,
which comes from her body.

My mind is full of different fascinations
and how I notice everything.
I notice the softened look in her eyes,
lovingly and somewhat submissive,
and almost frightened too
because she realizes how she is powerless
and as am I
and how both of us
are defenseless
in the sense that yes,
I know this is daring and tempting and yes,
I know this is meant to be.

I know that while the moment is connected
by two bodies, which insert and become one,
I understand that we are connected
by something that is more than just undeniable,
or for the moment,
and while we enjoy the beautiful
and the intimate séance,
or like the sway of a flickering candle,
I love the ideas that come to me.

I love the thoughts and feelings
which are unstoppable, as am I,
and equally unstoppable and insatiable
because in cases like this,
or in the séance of love and lovemaking,
lust and the taste on my tongue
is that of a happy man.

I am on fire
I am on top of the world
or, since she is my world
I am on top of her
and satisfied to kiss and taste the body of her
my love.

I am free to explore her
inch by inch, spot by spot,
and yes—after the rise of two heartbeats
and after the emotions erupt
and after the build up
which is when the sensation explodes,
and pushes through our bodies;
and lastly, as I spill myself into her,
nothing in the world could interrupt
or intercept the feeling
which I would have for her.

As crazy as I am
and as unsafe as I or my life may be . .
I can certainly love her
with all of my heart

Perfectly

And as for you, Mr. Chaos.
I’m sure that you would be okay
with this temporary reprieve
because although chaos remains
and life’s chaotic nature refuses to stop,
or cease and desist; at least I know
that as crazy as I am
or as poorly as I choose to operate sometimes
not even you could destroy
the love or the passion
which I feel in my heart.
Not you
Not even depression
nor suicide nor a death by any means
can refuse the truth of my heart
or prevent me from feeling as I do
which is this

In love ~