Os Lobos Não Usam Coleira.: julho 2010

sábado, julho 24, 2010

I grew up very much alone, and as far back
as I recall I was frightened of anything sexual. I was nearly sixteen when I met Simone, a girl my own age , at the beach in X. Our families being distantly related, we quickly grew intimate . Three days after our first meeting, Simone and I were alone in her villa. She was wearing a black pinafore with a starched white collar. I began realizing that she
shared my anxiety at seeing her, and I felt even more anxious that day because I hoped she would be stark naked under the pinafore.

She had black silk stockings on covering her knees, but I was unable to see as far up as the cunt (this name, which I always used with Simone, is, I think, by far the loveliest of the names for the vagina). It merely struck me that by slightly lifting the pinafore from behind, I might see her private parts unveiled.

Now in the corner of a hallway there was a saucer of milk for the cat.

“Milk is for the pussy, isn’t it?” said Simone. “Do you dare me to sit inthe saucer?”

“I dare you,” I answered, almost breathless.

Georges Bataille
STORY OF THE EYE
by Lord Auch

porque gosto dos clássicos..

We get some rules to follow
That and this
These and those
No one knows

We get these pills to swallow
How they stick
In your throat
Tastes like gold

Oh, what you do to me
No one knows

And I realize you’re mine
Indeed a fool am I
And I realize you’re mine
Indeed a fool am I
Ahh

I journey through the desert
Of the mind
With no hope
I found low

I drift along the ocean
Dead lifeboats in the sun
And come undone

Pleasently caving in
I come undone

And I realize you’re mine
Indeed a fool am I
And I realize you’re mine
Indeed a fool am I
Ahhh

Heaven smiles above me
What a gift there below
But no one knows

A gift that you give to me
No one knows