Daughter of the sky, foam-born from Ouranos's severed loin (the cruelest
cut) off the coast of Cythera; or perhaps of an Olympian and Titaness, daughter
of Zeus and Dione - unknown, conflicting origins. The wounds of love cut
deeply, breaking hearts, minds, and bodies with the soul-wracking pain of
torture, whether from the heavenly or the more common goddess. Deeply
do her effects penetrate, deep her fertility, her sex, her love, her gifts. Torture
is in the eye of the common beholder, but her beauty is universal, heavenly. Do
mortals even know what the purpose, the goal, the end, the telos of love is?
Or are we merely rutting, rotting carcasses who seek to escape the fate of all mortals?
Love and death guide all we do, say some soul-searchers, psychologists; or
it could be a plethora of archetypes, forms, logos; or it could be solely love
alone. Whatever the guiding star, love or war or both, she reigns high, and it
will not be until we are initiated into death that we learn truth together or alone.
Cruelest, hardest is the path of the lonely, so seek softness, love, we ever will.
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