desire

desire is like a river that starts atop a hill. it flows steadily, pooling at any convenient spot. it gathers momentum, grows bigger and refuses to ablate itself. it flits from one to another, from here to there, teasing every crevice and whetting every part. it provides an illusion of satisfaction, only to push and insist its way past each weak obstacle. all the while descending, descending, plummeting...