Life in the old Montmartre, to drink to Love and Life, to share lust with artists, blend into their paintings, oblivious to space and time. To live for love and lust, to love and lust so as to live, to lose and win with a smile, to love a writer, seduce m...
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Her story. She knew their time together would be brief, she knew he would one day join the evanescent group of lovers that had once visited her life, she knew he would give all of himself in the spiraling madness of orgasm and take it all away once this w...
The mirror called civilization, reflecting just shattered shadows, silhouettes condemned to dance against some semi-bright surface, feelings augmented and belittled, pain ignored and slowly festering, all hitting the sensibly cracked mirror, all claiming...