It Is Slavery To Live In The

You Often Say, "i Would Give, But Only To The Deserving." The Trees In Your Orchard Say Not So, Nor The Flocks In Your Pasture. They Give That They May Live, For To Withhold Is To Perish.

Your Clothes Conceal Much Of Your Beauty, Yet They Hide Not The Unbeautiful. And Though You Seek In Garments The Freedom Of Privacy, You May Find In Them A Harness And A Chain. Would That You Could Meet The Sun And The Wind With More Of Your Body And Less Of Your Raiment.

When You Were A Wandering Desire In The Mist, I Too Was There, A Wandering Desire. Then We Sought One Another, And Out Of Our Eagerness Dreams Were Born. And Dreams Were Time Limitless, And Dreams Were Space Without Measure.

When You Look Closely People Are So Strange & So Complicated That They're Actually Beautiful.

The Giving And Receiving Of Pleasure Is A Need And An Ecstasy.