Our love would be death. The embrace of imaginings.

“When does real love begin?At first it was a fire, eclipses, short circuits, lig…”

“That last afternoon in Henry's hotel room was for me like a white-hot furnace. …”

“Coming near him like a ballet dancer she took a leap towards him, and he, frigh…”

“Luxury is not a necessity to me, but beautiful and good things are.”