She comes unbidden, uncalled for. She makes surprising demands, but who could refuse? She pours wine, sweet, from a magic goblet of silver and platinum. It is tinged with cherries and bitter metal.
She is indeed a terrible goddess. All look on her and despair! Lovely one. You act without thinking, without a thought of your power. Your desire is your only concern. You are passion itself. Cunning, though. Inescapable. Eternal. The merest brushing of flesh causes the holiest to shudder.
I dare not ask you to come, but i long for it, and fear it. For you are mighty and what can I possibly contribute to your wondrous beauty? I can help not to smile to myself to be wanted. Although I know that I am no less fool than every other man who has tread this path.
But a trinket of pearl, crystal, silver fine she gives, with chain of purest supple filaments of iron. it presses into my flesh, and bruises form wherever it touches me. And I caress the bruises as I would her hand. They are sacred to me.
O Lover immortal. I do not know if I am dying or being reborn when you come. But it is the sacred dance that is all. I lose the concerns of temporal things. And thy banquet rich spreads before me. I lose myself in my feasting but i err and look up. your eye is upon me. i shall not be alone tonight.
O Blessedness that terrifies! O Terror that makes me to shiver and stamp and scream. I lay my head between thy breasts so white. And my cares slip into oblivion.
