A face with a beauty so terrible that it launched a thousand ships.
A world with a beauty so terrible that men forget their humanity, so as to possess it and to call it theirs.
Knowing it slips right through, men fill water into cloth bags and heap sand upon sieves.
It’s a thirst that cannot be quenched. There’s nothing that could pin it down, this flighty thing that men cherish, calling it beauty, or, power, or, wealth, or, fame! What an obsession with never ending death!
If only we could orgasm from the heart, and explode with love, for what’s within!

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