Is it possible that words, mere words, can work miracles? Or are they not words at all, but chalices and Holy grails, of human passion, full of the life-blood, staining the lips that approach them scarlet, of heart-drained pulse-wearied ravishment?
Is it possible that words, mere words, can work miracles? Or are they not words at all, but chalices and Holy grails, of human passion, full of the life-blood, staining the lips that approach them scarlet, of heart-drained pulse-wearied ravishment?