MIND: Extrusive

What a world to study, to explore, in your night face. The face of a stranger, carved out of lava, like some oceanic goddess. More mysterious with eyes closed and features sculpted out of ancestral memories. An almost barbaric look, as if you had been resurrected from some ancient city.

// Henry Miller, from a letter to Hoki Tokuda

MIND: Simple

I want to sit on the edge of your bed while you have your breakfast – I want to laugh with you, dress up in curtains, be incredibly silly, be incredibly happy, be like children, and I want to kiss you more than anything in the world…

// Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a letter to George Dillon

MIND: Addictive

Something in you pacifies me.
You’ve always had that power over me – part of you pacifies, another terrifies.
How do I get sick of that? I will never get sick of that.

// Henry Miller, from a letter to Anaïs Nin

SOL: Love Letters

I want you on my tongue, I want it to hurt, I want your name to leave
Bite marks down my neck into my ears until
I scrawl your last name on the roof of my mouth.

How good it tastes, how right it feels.
Last night under a half-moon you were drenched in agony and
I think I started to love you even more (if it’s possible, I don’t think it’s possible).

3AM Thoughts // AKA “When Your Mouth Curves Around My Name I Can’t Think Straight.”

MIND: Roots

I don’t lie to you.
Nor do I try to hurt you when I’m honest with you.
I’ve protected, or tried to, the best in you.
I never could promise to protect your body and soul –
nobody can promise another that.
We can only make one another strong, help each other to believe in ourselves.
He does not protect you – he makes you a slave.
You get befuddled.
You need him and he needs you – and it’s not true, it’s a lie, and you know it, and that’s the root of all your unhappiness.

// Henry Miller, from a letter to Anaïs Nin

MIND: Necessary Evil

You have become so vital a part of me that
I’m completely upside down, if that means anything.
I don’t know what I write – only that I love you,
that I must have you exclusively, fiercely, possessively.
You come and you make me sick with desire, with a desire to possess you,
to have you around me always, talking to me naturally,
moving about as if you were a part of me.

// Henry Miller, from a letter to Anaïs Nin

MIND: A Little Bit Drunk

Why don’t I get down on my knees and just worship you?
I can’t, I love you laughingly. Do you like that?
And dear Anaïs, I am many things.
You see only the good things now – or at least you lead me to believe so.
I want you for a whole day at least. I want to go places with you – possess you.
You don’t know how insatiable I am. Or how dastardly. And how selfish!

I have been on my good behaviour with you. But I warn you, I am no angel.
I think principally that I am a little drunk. I love you.
I go to bed now – it is too painful to stay awake. I am insatiable.
I will ask you to do the impossible. What it is, I don’t know.
You will tell me probably. You are faster than I am… it drives me crazy.
And the way you say my name! God, it’s unreal. Listen, I am very drunk.
I am hurt to be here alone. I need you.
Can I say everything to you? I can, can’t I?
Wrap your legs around me. Warm me.

// Henry Miller, from a letter to Anaïs Nin.