I must address this energy.
I want to consume my love. No way around it, the Self is committed to every bit of color that paints the subject.
I suffer because my Eye is entranced, infatuated. I melt into the heat.

My energy is volcanic, raw and primeval. It does not understand thought but action and fire. A boiling, pulsating element that wants to expand and be contained at the same time.

I become sensual and funnel my sense of being. I dance and dance, I touch the dome. I do not feel tired anymore. Not as I used to.

Dormant burgundy turning into a deity.
The paradox is evident, the wearer wants love.

A courageous, deep red love. A dark chocolate mind. Sensual sweetness shot through glass. A bleeding hand hurt by its shards.

We hit every spot, I am looking at you as a red dragon, there is smoke in the room.

I am high off of you, as you are of me.

Why not go for the dom(e)? Or the lower chambers?

I will annoint you mine and you shall enter.

I am hungry for you, don’t make me wait any longer.