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  • Writer's pictureClyve Rose


Remember this.

You are worthy of love my darling – and not the pedestrian, plebeian, almost-beige kind of ‘compulsory’ liking – but a deeply-feeling intensity of passion and inward/outward flame.

Just because the way to this has been obscured for centuries, does not mean there IS no way.

Can you not see? Do you not feel how well you have trained for this? For forging a path where none seems to be? Of course the path is there. It is just invisible until you speak the magic spell; eat the forbidden fruit; drink of the sacred Boyne . . . . or speak your own name (speak it now, I dare you . . . ).

Have you thought my dear, that you are a warrior for a REASON? That you were born a fighter for more worthy battles than the petty human ones upon which you spar now?

You are a wonder at this unknowing momentum; a queenly lover of change and destructive movement. You are the fire, the flood and the spectacular landslide. A beautiful knowing, unknowing and not-knowing all, all connected somehow. Some way – and yes the sex of it too. The sex that shift mountains and reshapes rivers. You have more power than you know my love, oh yes yes . . .

YES my darling – oh yes yes yes. Remember

this . . . and The.Power.Of.You.

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