MIND: Quiver

I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy.

I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die.
I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports…

When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.

// Gustave Flaubert

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