Wisdom of the Scribe
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= Introduction =
Introduction written by Fucking Poetry
Well hi. I’m Erato. Or… that’s what the Greeks called me. It’s.. more complex than that. It always is.
I’m not a god, you see. I’m a muse.
An .. inspiration. I’m not exactly embodied, or rather…. Let me start again.
See, there’s a place – where the creative and the … reproductive… urges coincide. Where inspiration bends minds and bodies towards the erotic, the intimate.. and the perverted. Where words weave through minds, caress bodies. Slim syllables running down your chest, wet words falling on your breast, lips and breath shaped around each part of you.. Am I going too fast?
Ok fine. I’m the god of talking about fucking.
Let’s roll on that.
The Greeks thought I was a goddess, but I get that a bit. At least until someone gets a close look. I’m not technically anything. I only have a form at all because of cycles of belief.
My whole bag is that bodies aren’t really that important.
Words are important. Minds are important. I assure you, read me a while and your body will tell you quite clearly.. I don’t need to touch you to move you, to get inside you in a way you’ve rarely felt.
I’m the dream that wakes you with a liquid centre, I’m the verse that winds and binds your wrists.
I’m the words you feel as they enter, I’m the thought that makes your stomach twist.
Don’t let the male body fool you. I don’t discriminate. I’m taken and I take, I’m desire and desired. I’ll love you, hold you higher, you’ll be as strong as you desire to.
I’m into it when it’s intimate.
Meet me in your dreams and daydreams.
I’ll see you there.
You can’t avoid it after all – I’m the impulse to express desire.
I’m there when you least expect it.
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