" Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace. My thirst, my boundless desire, my shifting road! Dark river-beds where the eternal thirst flows and weariness follows, and the infinite ache." ~ Pablo Neruda
She is so innocent, naive, frail. There is something pristine about her and unspoiled. She is afraid to love. She is a forest, and a night of dark trees She tastes like pollen and stars and hinges, she tastes like fairytales, swan maiden at midnight.