roman-payne

I'm not ashamed of heroic ambitions. If man and woman can only dance upon this earth for a few countable turns of the sun... let each of us be an Artemis, Odysseus, or Zeus... Aphrodite to the extent of the will of each one.

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my lifefor our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul.

I didn__ know then that young girls were a sort of poison, infectious to the man of age; and that men of age justly take woman of age to cure themselves of the diseases of youth.

Spanish rain,A maiden__ dress,Apothecary pillsAnd ancient thrills;Melancholy killsA girl__ caress.(__oman Payne; Valencia, Spain, November 2nd 2012)

Spanish rain,A maiden__ dress,Apothecary pillsAnd ancient thrills;Melancholy killsA girl__ caress.

I sat up in the strange bed fearing it had been a dream, afraid I would never see her again. Not because I wanted anything from her, only her presence. The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.

She wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my trothfor our love is whole;her breath is my wine,her scent is my soul.

Wanderess, Wanderess, weave us a story of seduction and ruse. Heroic be the Wanderess, the world be her muse.

In Sanskrit, there exists no word for __he Individual_ (L__ndividu). En Grèce antique, il n__ avait aucun mot pour dire __evoir_ (Duty). In French, the word for __ife_ is the same as the word for __oman._ En anglais, nous n__vons aucun mot semblable _ l__xquise __ouissance!

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my troth, for our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul

Our eyes will know the heavens if our lips stay for each other.

We look up to see if it is day or night. If stars burn cool and moon does shine, We take to smoke divine and wine.If breath of sun does belch its heat,we boil coffee and prepare to eat.

In general I strive for greatness and rational achievement, but I admit to you I__e a terrible fondness for women, a tendency towards drunkenness, and a weakness for the fumes of the poppy__pium and other miserable beauties.

What a face this girl possessed!__ould I not gaze at it every day I would need to recreate it through painting, sculpture, or fatherhood until a second such face is born. Her face, at once innocent and feral, soft and wild! Her mouth voluptuous. Eyes deep as oceans, her eyes as wide as planets. I likened her to the slender Psyché and judged that the perfection of her face ennobled everything unclean around her: the dusty hems of her bunched-up skirt, the worn straps of her nightshirt; the blackened soles of her tiny bare feet, the coal-stained balcony bricks upon which she sat, and that dusty wrought-ironwork that framed her perch. All this and the pungent air!__lmost foul, with so many odors. _, that and the spicy night! _Pungency, spice, filth and night, dust and light; all things dark did blossom in sight; flower and bloom, the night has its pearl too__he moon! And once a month it will make the face of this tender girl bloom.

No man sings as beautifully as when his song is accompanied by a woman__ voice.

Everything was brighter and more colorful in those years, as if my childhood was ending in an explosion of unreal passion that made my life feel sacred and holy.

What is a Wanderess? Bound by no boundaries, contained by no countries, tamed by no time, she is the force of nature__ course.

When no possessions keep us, when no countries contain us, and no time detains us, man becomes a heroic wanderer, and woman, a wanderess.