The Book of Lust “...each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can't strike them all by ourselves.” ~Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate Lust, so often compared to fire. So often compared to hell, heaven and the immeasurable limbo in-between. Never compared to butterfly. Lust, is butterfly. And you – its blooming field of flowers ©anonymouslust cemetery ©anonymouslust hunger ©anonymouslust semantics ©anonymouslust etiquette ©anonymouslust geography ©anonymouslust visitor ©anonymouslust smell ©anonymouslust dimensions ©anonymouslust clothes ©anonymouslust wash-machine ©anonymouslust birthmarks ©anonymouslust Shapes ©anonymouslust binary ©anonymouslust THE stroke ©anonymouslust venery ©anonymouslust Sun Spots ©anonymouslust decrescendo ©anonymouslust Trove ©anonymouslust Tools ©anonymouslust landscape ©anonymouslust birthday ©anonymouslust continuum ©anonymouslust Sweet Damnation’s Call ©anonymouslust perpetuum ©anonymouslust Take All You Are ©anonymouslust If Lust ©anonymouslust lai ©anonymouslust view ©anonymouslust momentary madness and shoes ©anonymouslust parts ©anonymouslust Count ©anonymouslust The Math of Lust ©anonymouslust inspection ©anonymouslust inspection, bis ©anonymouslust Ice Cream ©anonymouslust Death ©anonymouslust Gather Your Limbs ©anonymouslust whale ©anonymouslust I Wish It Was Sex ©anonymouslust Blanket ©anonymouslust Smell ©anonymouslust Drag ©anonymouslust Seduction ©anonymouslust Destinations ©anonymouslust Return ©anonymouslust Radish ©anonymouslust Tomato ©anonymouslust Onion ©anonymouslust Cucumber... ©anonymouslust ...and Beet ©anonymouslust Eggplant ©anonymouslust Watermelon ©anonymouslust Then ©anonymouslust Crying Butterflies ©anonymouslust North-North-West ©anonymouslust V ©anonymouslust Dimensions ©anonymouslust Skin Cells ©anonymouslust Night Trip ©anonymouslust skirt ©anonymouslust Rhyming Lessons ©anonymouslust Invader's Privilege anonymouslust is a pseudonym for yossi faybish
“...each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can't strike them all by ourselves.”
Lust, so often compared to fire. So often compared to hell, heaven and the immeasurable limbo in-between. Never compared to butterfly. Lust, is butterfly. And you – its blooming field of flowers