My Lady of Lusciousness
What might happen if I chose to fall at the feet of ecstasy, to give myself over to her in complete submission?
What if I chose to worship exclusively at her altar?
In times of distress?
In times of joy?
All the damn time!
Those words terrify me.
They shake, rattle, and roll the very core of who I have been.
I am guilty, I confess, of sometimes feeding off of guilt, shame, misery, anguish…A long time ago, I made these things my companions. I adopted them as my shield against disappointment. How could anything disappoint if I were already DISAPPOINTED?
So, what if I take these emblems of my consciously chosen, studiously cultivated DEFEAT, and simply offer them up to my lady of lusciousness?