What is sex without love, copulation without passion, encounters without meaning? These empty fragments of carnal memory littering the lives of so many, all of them endlessly searching for some meaning, some purpose to give their life definition. It does not matter to me that your body is like my body, that you can never penetrate me as he does; your cunt, my cunt, these are only physical barriers. I make love to your soul, I make love to you, and you penetrate my mind like a thousand cocks never could.

Invading me, Impaling me, Conquering me, Fucking me.

My greatest surrender is to my own weakness, my own heart, my own admission that my love for you is real and necessary, and I need you. I need to touch you. I need to be touched by you.

[...]

From Connection III