....love and desire enjoy a symbiotic relationship meaning that one cannot exist without the other. Desire is an enemy to contentment desire is illness a feverish brain. Who can be considered healthy who wants The very word want suggests a lack an impoverishment and that is what desire is an impoverishment of the brain a flaw a mistake.

You see the first thing we love is a scene. For love at first sight requires the very sign of its suddenness and of all things it is the scene which seems to be seen best for the first time a curtain parts and what had not yet ever been seen is devoured by the eyes the scene consecrates the object I am going to love. The context is the constellation of elements harmoniously arranged that encompass the experience of the amorous subject...Love at first sight is always spoken in the past tense. The scene is perfectly adapted to this temporal phenomenon distinct abrupt framed it is already a memory the nature of a photograph is not to represent but to memorialize... this scene has all the magnificence of an accident I cannot get over having had this good fortune to meet what matches my desire.The gesture of the amorous embrace seems to fulfill for a time the subjects dream of total union with the loved being The longing for consummation with the other... In this moment everything is suspended time law prohibition nothing is exhausted nothing is wanted all desires are abolished for they seem definitively fulfilled... A moment of affirmation for a certain time though a finite one a deranged interval something has been successful I have been fulfilled all my desires abolished by the plenitude of their satisfaction.

Her life with others no longer interests him. He wants only her stalking beauty her theatre of expressions. He wants the minute secret reflection between them the depth of field minimal their foreignness intimate like two pages of a closed book.

For love is no part of the dreamworld. Love belongs to Desire and Desire is always cruel.

But if you love and must needs have desires let these be your desiresTo melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.To know the pain of too much tenderness.To be wounded by your own understanding of loveAnd to bleed willingly and joyfully.To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of lovingTo rest at noon hour and meditate loves ecstasyTo return home at eventide with gratitudeAnd then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise on your lips.

Ill always want him. Until every sun goes dark in every sky until I am nothing more than long-forgotten cosmic dust I will want him. And even then I suspect my particles will long for his.

Maybe you could be mine or maybe well be entwined aimless in this sexless foreplay.

It has made me better loving you... it has made me wiser and easier and brighter. I used to want a great many things before and to be angry that I did not have them. Theoretically I was satisfied. I flattered myself that I had limited my wants. But I was subject to irritation I used to have morbid sterile hateful fits of hunger of desire. Now I really am satisfied because I cant think of anything better. Its just as when one has been trying to spell out a book in the twilight and suddenly the lamp comes in. I had been putting out my eyes over the book of life and finding nothing to reward me for my pains but now that I can read it properly I see that its a delightful story.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek

I got my hearts desire and there my troubles began.