What is your motto of life, she asked. That we keep close to ourselves, I answered, like Machiavellian enemies, the capacity to be creative and imaginative. As when we were children, and on those gray, rain-soaked days, which demanded of us that we stay indoors, we created sheeted and blanketed forts and secret societies (where we were King and Queen) to get ourselves through the tortuously long day.
Ask the moon for forgiveness and she will spit in your face; ask the sun for a ripe orange, and she will submit to your pleasures. Ask a woman for a soft-lipped kiss, and she will ravage your mind; ask a whore to assuage your weariness, and she will embrace your soul.
Ask the moon for forgiveness and she will spit in your face; ask the sun for a ripe orange, and she will submit to your pleasures. Ask a woman for a soft-lipped kiss, and she will ravage your mind; ask a whore to assuage your weariness, and she will embrace your soul.
