Some nights are quiet, still as a moonlit pond.
Others are not.
Wild like the crashing waves of a torrential coastal storm, furious and forceful with disregard of the damage wrought. An ocean mighty with violent rage and ferocious temper. Like to wash the world clean.
Let this be that night for us…
Let us will our souls and bodies to become tempest. Carve new canyons, crush mountains, create a new world of abundance through the rampage of our unrealized lust.
A barrage of primal collisions, lasting impressions, a conflagration of passion…setting the world as we know it…ablaze.
Offering up to the gods, the pent-up, unrequited, unfulfilled refuse that weigh down our souls like beasts, let us use our heavy burden as tinder, together.
From the physical and emotional cataclysm, from the lifetime of our heart’s unrealized hope, let our carnal union lead to the rebirth of joy and lust and revelry.
As we were born to be.