Oh
I had loved and lusted, loved and "loved."
And sometimes I was not sure whether I had loved "love" or the man in question, myself and my role as Inamorata, or just the adrenaline rush of love, that most powerful of all drugs, that highest of all highs - kicker than cocaine, more euphoric than opium, dizzierthan dope.
For sometimes we create a lover out of parti - colored fool just to feel that rush again - and when the rush is over, we look at him and laugh, asking ourselves why.
But at it's truest, love is altogether another matter: a matter of Gods and goddesses, or spirits merging, of a holy communion in the flesh. And one never knows, before making that leap of faith, whether one will find pure spirits or mere motley, Holy communion or sexual aerobics, Gods and Goddesses, Orgoat and Monkeys.
"Who chooseth me must give a hazard all he hath" - the essence and the test of love.
Till then, Blessed us all....
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