“Would that I could drink of your skin. Even as I have drunk of your sight. Would that I could suckle each tender limb of your body. Would that I could consume you, and in doing so be also consumed. To have placed possession of every fibre of you, to burn and be quenched and burn again. I would be a sailor also upon the rivers of your mind and be lost only in the seeing of you. I would be a diver in your depths, both cold and warm would I dive them. Naked and swift I would explore them. Would that I could be all that I am and have been and still be a voyageur, intent only upon the continent of thyself.”
Dent, Melissa.
