Tor miller naked11/9/2022 ![]() ![]() I am even crazy enough to believe that you might walk in on me unexpectedly. Anaïs, I love you so much, so much! I am getting tongue- tied. I love your loins, the golden pallor, the slope of your buttocks, the warmth inside you, the juices of you. Let the hair wave-expose it to the sun-let the color return. God, I want to see you in Louveciennes, see you in that golden light of the window, in your Nile-green dress and your face pale, as frozen pallor as of the night of the concert. This long Sunday- how will I ever get through it? It is just killing time. I don’t know when you return-the 7th or the 15th? But make it as soon as you can. Everything hangs on tomorrow.Įvery day I wait now is torture. I feel close to you, one with you, you’re mine whether it is acknowledged or not. Lying on top of you is one thing, but getting close to you is another. ![]() You’re food and drink to me-the whole bloody machinery, as it were. God forgive me if this letter is ever opened by mistake. Anaïs, I am going to open your very groins. When you return I am going to give you one literary fuck fest-that means fucking and talking and talking and fucking-and a bottle of Anjou in between-or a Vermouth Cassis. Is it possible you didn’t receive the big letters I mailed? One of them was sealed, the other was about of equal size-I think I have sent you about three thick ones, this will make the fourth. Why is it that distance in itself is so enchanting?ĭesperate. I’m just waking up!) There was one blue hole about eight lightyears away into which a sparrow dove. (Time and Space-what these things are beginning to mean to me. You can see nothing but the clouds when you lie there and clouds are wonderful when they are punctured by cerulean blue. This evening at sunset I lay on my couch and watched the clouds sailing by my window. How do you like either of these-“Tropic of Cancer” or “I Sing the Equator.” (2nd volume would be “Tropic of Capricorn.” The last book ought to be just “God.”) I think I have discovered a title for the book. This particular missive was written prior to a heated few days at Nin’s home in France. Such explosive conditions resulted in countless passionate love letters from both parties. The liaison would last for many years, a situation further intensified by the fact that Nin also had an openly discussed affair, albeit brief, with Miller’s then-wife, June, as their own romance grew. In 1932, months after first meeting in Paris and despite both being married, celebrated Cuban diarist Anaïs Nin and Henry Miller-the hugely influential novelist responsible for writing the sexually explicit (for the times) novel Tropic of Cancer (1934), which Nin helped to finance-began a fiery love affair. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply.AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |