When Doves Cry - Prince
Dig, if you will, the picture, of you and I engaged in a kiss, the sweat of your body covers me, can you my darling, can you picture this? Dream, if you can, a courtyard, an ocean of violets in bloom, animals strike curious poses, they feel the heat, the heat between me and you… How can you just leave me standing, alone, in a world that’s so cold, maybe I’m just too demanding, maybe I’m just like my father, too bold, maybe you’re just like my mother, she’s never satisfied, why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like, when doves cry…
"He convinced me I was born to be begged for — so my favorite music came from Motown highsteppers who were always begging you not to go, whining because you’d left them after they’d begged you not to go or praying out loud that you would come on home so they could beg you not to go before you left them again. He sang “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” with me, off-key so I’d feel at home, and when the record player got tired, he stood over my shoulder while I wrote stories in wire-bound theme books, stories where every character was me, but me with different names and me making them say anything I wanted."
Patricia Smith, an excerpt from Live Through This
Mushrooms - Yayoi Kusama, 1995.
Anonymous: You are the most beautiful creature ive laid my eyes upon.
Thank you, very much appreciated.
