... sometimes you are reminded of the first sip, and sometimes you find something new, but every time you get closer to its truth. Its essence.
A part of me — not my ass, particularly — would normally find this sort of chauvinism deplorable. Still, somewhere between traumatizing-sexual-encounter and needing-attention-from-men, my indignation evaporates.
Some objects just have power. This cup is one of those objects. And I want to share it with everyone.
The dance floor pulsates and the air is electric. Muscular ebony bodies — bare chests out — draped in gold chains, gyrate like sex gods. Have I died and gone to heaven?