Love. How it toys with us. Makes utter fools of us. Clubs, whips... and spanks us. Listen to the voices of the unloved as they surge and retreat in the night... Whisper to empty rooms... And lonely beds. The hunger of love. Unattained. Rushing through our fingers. Unstoppable. Fleeting. Gone. And yet, when we touch this love, it burns us with its bright flame. It punishes and consumes. And yet we must have it. It rules us. Uses. Abuses. Misuses. And yet why do we always crawl back for more?
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