But fall?
No. What is it, love?
If not a fall, is it a hunger? The appetite casting around for strange meat not yet encountered, hungry for what it does not know yet, but will recognize at the first scent in the air?
I know one thing: No one tumbles straight into their greatest love, the great love of their life. For there are many kinds of love- maiden love, flesh love, flesh hunger, then the deepest love hunger- and all these must be tried, tasted and relished before the one great love.
No. What is it, love?
If not a fall, is it a hunger? The appetite casting around for strange meat not yet encountered, hungry for what it does not know yet, but will recognize at the first scent in the air?
I know one thing: No one tumbles straight into their greatest love, the great love of their life. For there are many kinds of love- maiden love, flesh love, flesh hunger, then the deepest love hunger- and all these must be tried, tasted and relished before the one great love.
( Rosalind Miles )
[ I, Elizabeth ]
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