For Always In Her There

I Congratulate Myself On Not Having Arrived Into The World Until The Present Time. This Age Suits My Taste.

In Spite Of All The Refinements Of Civilization That Conspired To Make Art--the Dizzying Perfection Of The String Quartet Or The Sprawling Grandeur Of Fragonard's Canvases--beauty Was Savage. It Was As Dangerous And Lawless As The Earth Had Been Eons Before Man Had One Single Coherent Thought In His Head Or Wrote Codes Of Conduct On Tablets Of Clay. Beauty Was A Savage Garden.

It Was As If The Empty Nights Were Made For Thinking Of Him. And Sometimes I Found Myself So Vividly Aware Of Him It Was As If He Had Only Just Left The Room And The Ring Of His Voice Were Still There. And Somehow, There Was A Disturbing Comfort In That, And, Despite Myself, I’d Envision His Face.

I Was Particularly Stunned By The Casting Of Cruise, Who Is No More My Vampire Lestat Than Edward G. Robinson Is Rhett Butler.

I Never Knew What Life Was Until It Ran Out In A Red Gush Over Any Lips, My Hands!