what sweet addiction this is... you create a world
full of little fairies with torn stockings and
jet black hair and blue eyes and red lips and
thin eyebrows and pointy nipples and fetishes
for virgins.....
Love is merely a reflection of oneself
in the object of his desire. Ones you
establish that, it is clear that I'm
deeply and madly in love with a 14th
century portrait of a young girl...
She follows me with her eyes and there
is no escape. I think she loves me too.