beg.

Retract. Unwrite. To begin is so violent. But finishing is worse. Don't we all want to simply ease into the continuum--like a wedding ring(or so he said when he pronounced us--I remember because I wasn't sleep deprived then) "No beginning, and no end." That's the ideal: we catch it in the middle of something and break away arbitrarily at the appropriate denoument, knowing full well it goes on--like us. Like those magician's rings: spinning or floating, touching, even linking for a time, and seemlessly independent again.

A friend told me the body type I like is "boyish." I had to consider for a second before the hips and breasts started singing. Loud and clear in a harmony of curves that wakes up my own singing parts. That's where it all comes together. Circles again. Smooth and firm. Circling and touching--overlapping--linking. Only then does the penetration (into the PLOT, or THEME, or SCENARIO, or POEM even, if that makes it easier to say) become beautiful enough to mean anything.