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By Emmanuel Williams

Dear Lover,

This is the first time I’m reaching out to the Great Goddess. At least in literature. And you will not be ashamed that I sought you.

I am your lover.

I will always be.

You are mine, and I am yours. Wherever we are in the universe. It is our destiny, fate, and arrangement. It is up to me to keep that arrangement an agreeable one.

My first flower for you is of the rose. Not of the Americas, but of the Africas. A rose by any other name is still a rose. Hope remains that you will love this rose. It is precious, it is delicate. It is my gift to you.

It’s petals are soft so I snipped it from it’s dangerous stem. I have no time to dethorn a rose. I must give it to you now!

You must have it now!

For I am the lover with roses

In the cast from broken ass noses

In the brush we can fuck

Till our legs produce cuts

But we cannot part without roses.

I am yours and you are mine.

For where we go from here I leave up to you. Give me a sign of your affections, and tell me you love me!

Don’t blow on some other guy’s dice.

I’m primed, I’m willing, I’m a stallion by billing. And there is no one alive like me. Like you or I.

Oh Goddess, be near.

In my arms, with heart clear.

That this is where you want to be and the world can suffer without us while we lay in our cocoon that we revisit and visit and visit. Our climaxes tension upon tension upon tension.

I cannot be without you for you came for me once, twice, thrice without flight…

In the alley I called you, and you showed me your grace.

In my bedroom I called you, and you sat on my face.

Will you always be mine? A gift from the universe, a pleasant curse of the mad man.

My beautiful Goddess.

Who loves me when no one else is around?

If I call out, who else will be found…?