Sometimes there is nothing we can do about what our wants.

I did not want you.

I wanted to taste you in the small increments. You did not want to feed me. You wanted me to savour, the mystery.

Your mouth was hungry but your appetite was far from ready, for me at least.

I am a mighty meal so I must know patience, when I desire what wants to unfold.

I do not wait for you, I become with you.

I plan to feed on many beings and things. You are one. Are ready for me?

I see it in your eyes, the glint of the smile that is festering for more, perhaps its not me. Perhaps you are just hungry; perhaps you want a fool, someone who does not challenge you. Are you ready to savour your beauty? Until then, you are not ready for mine. I will eat you alive.

Find another being of time that likes to feel me inside.

Before we met, you did not feel, like this. You have shed your old skin and it lays between us on the floor. I wanted to see what you would become.

You lay on the floor. A cascading dream before me, I wanted to please, see you for all you could be.

You were fighting something I could not see. It took you over, like flesh does the body, you stopped seething for me. Pleasure became a misery. You were hungry. You wanted me even more. I got bored.

Desire must grow. Did you look for me, or did you just see a reflection of possibility?

I am inside. Seething for life.

You were looking for a good, time, when I had already had mine.

D.E.S.I.R.E = Death Explores Space In Reflective Expressions

Photography by  Alexis Fauvet

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