Tuesday, January 8, 2008

In Dreams

Lord, the dreams I am dreaming.

Anais Nin, in Delta of Venus, wrote of a young woman in a sexual relationship with her adopted father (I know, Anais was VERY naughty). The young woman one day tells her soon-to-be lover, "Your hands, all night I dreamt of your hands."

My dreams are nothing like that.

I am dreaming of FOOD. Endless amounts of it. Fragrant and luscious and firm and sweet and salty and tangy and messy and neat and secret and public and overflowing.

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