One Can Hear All That's

On Him, Under Him, With His Mouth Pressed To Hers, He Sang To Her Uncouth Songs That Moved Through Her Body.

Though They May Not Always Be Handsome Men Doomed To Evil Posses The Manly Virtues.

Erotic Play Discloses A Nameless World Which Is Revealed By The Nocturnal Language Of Lovers. Such Language Is Not Written Down. It Is Whispered Into The Ear At Night In A Hoarse Voice. At Dawn It Is Forgotten.

There Are Mornings When All Men Experience With Fatigue A Flush Of Tenderness That Makes Them Horny.

Solitude, As I Understand It, Does Not Signify An Unhappy State, But Rather Secret Royalty, Profound Incommunicability Yet A More Or Less Obscure Knowledge Of An Invulnerable Singularity.