Love letters and poems
I stole a few moments yesterday and found myself browsing thru a bookstore. You see, I have the same addiction as my colleague, Elisa, who writes for The Book Stacks. I do, quite literally, have stacks and stacks of books everywhere. It is so bad, having run out of bookshelf space ages ago, that now I am stacking them in artful, feng-shui ways that look less like the mess of an old English professor, and more like conversational pieces—at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
Anyway, I digress! My real purpose in starting this post that way was to tell you I found myself in a very sad erotica section (lousy choices that really were more B and C-grade romance novels than anything else). One of the first erotic, true-life sagas that came to mind (to save me from that drivel) was that of Anais Nin and Henry Miller.
I found A Literate Passion: Letters of Anais Nin and Henry Miller sitting between Henry and June and some excerpts of Nin’s diary. Having not come across this work before, I was thrilled to read a bit of it. It’s astonishing what happens when two sexually charged, passionate individuals share a love like theirs. What they were able to explore (in text) of their inner natures was remarkable. And in the course of the 250 letters back and forth they bared more than just their sexuality—there was a discovery of each other and themselves on an intellectual level that strengthened their bond.
Thus, this post (don’t worry, I’m getting to my point)…
We all, including myself, have volumes of written and unwritten passion in our head. Every week I’ll start sharing some of mine with you in a post like this called “Love Letters and Poems.” I invite you to share with me (via email or comment), and lose yourself in everyone’s passionate words and tales of love.
You could seduce water
Make the sun beg for your warmth
Sway the strongest of trees
Extinguish the brightest of stars with your passion
Oh, but I am water and,
I am on fire all at once
The touch of you makes me swoon
And the blue flame of all passion pales
to that which I feel when I’m with you.
I am seduced
By your wit
I am caught up
In your gaze
I am uprooted
By your presence
And nothing can eclipse–even for a moment—
The depth I feel for you…
erotica, passion, sexual intimacy, love letter, Anais Nin, Henry Miller, Book Stacks
October 30th, 2006 at 3:34 pm
Lovely. I adore Rumi. Bittersweet is a favorite.
October 30th, 2006 at 7:57 pm
One of my favorite books is a tattered copy of The Letters of Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf. Though I’m not sure they were ever together physically, their love for each other came through the lines. The letters: usually subtle, often endearing, always eloquent.