Angels with dirty faces;)

I am… never alone… loved by all most dearly, most intimately… they raised me to seduce princesses, thinking I was some priceless estate. And I knocked on so many good doors, left my shoes under so many comfy beds, and thought that I was in love with every goddess… only because she’s a woman;)

The heart was breaking, the soul was aching naked somewhere in the cold; though I had been surrounded by tenderness and feelings which tend to pass, even though I have gentle touch and laundry smelling of a woman;)

There is this long niche of women’s voices, orgasmic pleasures on a long play, endless mp3’s crossing one into the other… only to become shadows in the night, only to fade like tender snowflakes at the grasp of my palm, disappearing like a whisper in the loud desert wind; yet defining me somehow in its depravity of existence;)

In the best of my nobility, I became that playful misbehaving being who tends to forget and continues on to the next round; for I know only too well that the ability to forgive yourself is the highest fault, and not a virtue; and I do strive towards certain faults;) I remember now, there were no longer desires, but only dirty motives; no peace or feelings allowed… there were only empty trophies elevated on my thing, huge loads of pleasures without any trace of pleasure;)

You see, there aren’t any princes left… you’ve slain them all! Only angels with dirty faces remain, to perform so admirably;)