The Nice Clean Intimacy Which We Now

The #‎ Cosmos Is A Vast Living Body, Of Which We Are Still Parts.

It Is A Curious Thing How Poets Tend To Become Ascetics.... Even A Debauch For Them Is A Self-flagellation. They Go On The Loose In Cruelty Against Themselves, Admitting That They Are Pandering To, And Despising, The Lower Self.

I Think Societal Instinct Much Deeper Than Sex Instinct — And Societal Repression Much More Devastating.

An Illusion Which Is A Real Experience Is Worth Having.

And To My Lips' Bright Crimson Rim The Passion Slips, And Down My Slim White Body Drips The Shining Hymn.