The cocoon picked up and treasured by the Goddess in the Garden of supreme ecstasy. Polished away the rotted tears matted down against the cocoon shell exposing pores that could swell for the buitterfly trapped inside to breathe. Flickering just one pore could expose a sweet slide as the butterfly soon realized that the cocoon was temporary. Just…Read More

To dream of my Goddess is to listen to my heartbeat located like a luscious Red jewel nestled inside the plush pillow. Some Fools of day past assume the treasure box must be broken open cracking the lock and ripping the sides so completely that perhaps it may takes years for someone tender to loveingly sew the stray seams together again. For in…Read More