I’d love to hear her thoughts. I know she does not show her face all the time, but when she does, she stains me. She is my tattoo, my ink, my love, my lust. A desire that breathes life into my aging bones and turns back years. I am sadly addicted to her – she who is you – and for many good reasons. It is more than coming or fucking. It is passion, love and life. It is the secret story of us, the secret of what makes us who we are and what we are. Alone. Together.

An extract from “Letters”.

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