Happiness is corny. It is a word you do not find in Dorland’s medical dictionary. When people are feeling tops, really at peace with themselves and others, they are not happy. In the medical sense, in that condition they are thought of not as happy, they are “euphoric,” which, loosely translated, means slap-happy.
All I want in this life are three…
a moonlit beach on the starlit sea,
a breath of opium,
Happiness isn’t good enough for me! I demand euphoria!
All I really want to write about is what happened just before he left. But if I let myself start with that I might forget some of the things which came first. And every word he said is of deepest value to me.
Love is like an unfathomable idea. An idea that is slightly above euphoria, yet a fingers width from heaven.
Ode to the Chamber
…linger here amidst the chamber
in which we embrace our love
talk to me of sonnets
and call me turtledove…
The very first few days when you actually start having symptoms of falling for someone special, are the days of heavenly bliss and unreasonable madness. This specific “madness
We were decadent in our intimacy. Leaving no inch of skin untouched lest a moment of rapture slip through our grasp. Thrusting and plunging, in dazed euphoria, the exquisite cravings for those carnal delights ravaged our souls until shamelessly, gasping lust tainted air, we discovered insatiability…
I don’t care what anyone says, the stars give you hope on a dark and gloomy night.