The passion that drives women and men over the Cliff.

He created Dante's Inferno, he drew up that substance in me like a bubbly cavernous lava that tore out my insides.  His steel blue eyes catching the light from the sky drew up a sensation in me, the kind that caused a smoky glaze across the windows of his beat up Ford.  I could feel his strong limbs and firmament against my breasts in the truck and the way he forced himself on me like molten rock in a sandy desert.  His heavy breathing and the pressure on my body, the tightness one feels as he grazes his skin on me and rips my clothes off in necessity.  Those moments cannot be forgotten or recreated.  It is like the whole universe had capitualated in that moment for him to love me this way.  The firmament of heavens opened up and yellow and white bled through like a midnight sun in the middle of Sweden.  I could feel his blessing and his carnal curse as he pushed his fleshy torch into my ovaries that had laid dormant for quite some time.  It was in this moment I held onto him, like a prairie wife in gingham and touched the edges of his cheekbones that carved out such a beautiful face that spilled out destiny upon my shoulders.