The enduring erotic power of forlorn love should not be straightway superceded, by the transitory jubilation wrought by mirthful sexuality cloaked as sensual fulfilment amply buttressed by passionate physicality operating in a vacuous realm of sensory degradation. Wanton disregard of recalcitrant truisms tend, invariably, to expose naked, malcontented sensibilities linked inexorably to lustful predelictions sinufully besotted by ejaculatory dreamscapes, newly spent and diminished, without redeeming quid pro quo enlightenment surely promissory in nature, yet wholly devoid of lucid fantasy dense condensation.
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