ART OF LOVE BONDING
IN THE STUDY OF THE ART OF LOVE MAKEING SEAMS ENDLESS POEMS OF COURSE . I HAVE STUDYIED AND PRACTICES EMPATHIC LOVE ART COVERING ALL FANTASYS AS WELL FETISHES GOING DEEP I FEEL IN ALL AREAS FOR LONG DURATIONS HOURS DAYS I HAVE STUDYIED THE BIO CHEMISTRY . THE ELECTROBICHEMICAL REACTIONS AS WELL AS THE PSYCHOLOGICAL . SOCIOLOGICAL PHEROMONES SCENTS EVERY ASPECT OF THIS TO SPIRITUAL TO TELEPATHIC BONDINGS OF 2 PEOPLE I HAVE WRITTEN ARTICLES ON THIS ABOVE MENTIONED . I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE A NUMBER OF TIMES I COULD GET A WOMAN TO ORGASM AT A TONE OF MY VOICE OR MY HAND OVER ABOUT 3 WEEKS CLOSENESS WE WHERE TOGETHER 2 AND A HALF MONTHS UNTILL SHE WENT BACK EAST THIS HAS HAPPENED ABOUT TWO TIMES MY ENERGY IS UNLIMITED I FEEL IN REGARDS TO LOVE MAKEING AND EXSPORATION OF ALSO FANTASYIES IN SOME CASES I FEEL I HAVE REACHED ALMOST AN ANOTHER DIAMENTION OF REALITY AT THE MONENTS OF ORGASM ONE TIME ONLY ONE OF MY DATES GOT FRIEGHTENED OF INTENSITY OF MULTIPUL TYPES OF YOU KNOW WHAT THEN SHE GOT WHAT THEY CALL FLINCHED YET I WANDER WHAT OTHER FACTORS ARE INVOLVED IN OUR JOINING AS TO HAVE VOICE AND A SIMPLE TOUCH DO THESE AMAZEING THINGS IN LOVE MAKEING AS I MENTIONED IAM WELL VERSED IN THE STUDY OF BIOCHEMICAL . PSYCHOLOGICAL AND OTHERS OK WHAT ABOUT EMPATHIC I HAVE FELT STRONGLY MY PARTNERS FEELINGS VERY STRONGLY I MEAN VERY VERY STRONG WITHIN ME AND ITS VERY INTENSE AND LOVELY POWERFULL ITS A BONDIONG AND IT GROWS STRONGER DUREING THE PLAY OF THIS I STUDIED TANTRIC AND OTHERS BUT FOUND NOT THIS WITHIN IT OK TELEPATHIC I FEEL IS ALSO AT PLAY THE WORKS OF DR ROBERT JAHN IN REGARDS TO ACTUAL MEASUREMENTS IN FREQUENCYIES AND ALSO TELEKINETIC THE WORK OF JACK HOUCK ITS THERE AND PROVABLE THEN THE BONDS FORM LIFE BETWEEN COUPLES I READ TWO HAND BOOKS ON THIS ASPECT AS YOU MOST LIKELY KNOW OVER TIME WHEN ONE PARTNER DYES THE OTHER FOLLOWS SOON AFTERWORDS I READ THE BIOCHEMICAL REACTIONS ON THIS MY FAITH IN THE SECRET AS ITS CALLED AND POSITIVE MANIFESTATIONS SEAMS TO ME BE PART OF THE NEW QUANTUM PHYSICS ALL OF THIS IS INTERLINKED I FEEL IN MY LOVES AND DATES HUM MAYBEMORE INFORMATION COMES THIS WAY THE SECRET IS VERY REAL THE MECHANIXS OF IT I AM SEEING AND PRACTICING IT TRULY AMAZEING IN THE ART OF LIFE AND LOVE MAKEING AND DAY TO DAY LIVEING YET WOULD YOU BELIEVE THE ABOVE LOVE BONDING HAPPENED TEN THOUSAND MILES AWAY WITH MY X IN VIENNA WE WHERE BONDED SOME HOW WHERE SHE FELT ME AND I HER AT MOMENTS DUREING THE DAY I COULD AT TIMES SEE VIENNA AS THREW HER EYES SHE THE SAME SHE GOT HYSTERICAL PREGNANT AT NIGHT I COULD GO INTO HER MORE VIDID IN DREAM STATES THIS OF COURSE GOT THE LOCAL [POST OFFICE FOLKS WEIRDED OUT AS WE USED FAXES FOR COMMUNICATION AND PHONE I CONSULTED WITH JACK HOUCK PARAPSYCHOLISITS AND MY X WITH HER FRIENDS IN VIENNA UNTILL WE WHERE TOGETHER YES BONDING YET ON OCCASION OUR SOULS WOULD PASS ONE ANOTHER WE ARE STILL FRIENDS WHEN WE PARTED AND SHES VISITING THE DALIA LAMA ENDING WITH A POEM I WIKLL Next to my own skin, her pearls. My mistress
bids me wear them, warm then, until evening
when I'll brush her hair. At six, I place them
round her cool, white throat. All day I think of
her,
resting in the Yellow Room, contemplating silk
or taffeta, which gown tonight? She fans herself
whilst I work willingly, my slow heat entering
each pearl. Slack on my neck, her rope.
She's beautiful. I dream about her
in my attic bed; picture her dancing
with tall men, puzzled by my faint, persistent scent
beneath her French perfume, her milky stones.
I dust her shoulders with a rabbit's foot,
watch the soft blush seep through her skin
like an indolent sigh. In her looking-glass
my red lips part as though I want to speak.
Full moon. Her carriage brings her home. I see
her every movement in my head...Undressing,
taking off her jewels, her slim hand reaching
for the case, slipping naked into bed, the way
she always does...And I lie here awake,
knowing the pearls are cooling even now
in the room where my mistress sleeps. All night
I feel their absence and I burn.
bids me wear them, warm then, until evening
when I'll brush her hair. At six, I place them
round her cool, white throat. All day I think of
her,
resting in the Yellow Room, contemplating silk
or taffeta, which gown tonight? She fans herself
whilst I work willingly, my slow heat entering
each pearl. Slack on my neck, her rope.
She's beautiful. I dream about her
in my attic bed; picture her dancing
with tall men, puzzled by my faint, persistent scent
beneath her French perfume, her milky stones.
I dust her shoulders with a rabbit's foot,
watch the soft blush seep through her skin
like an indolent sigh. In her looking-glass
my red lips part as though I want to speak.
Full moon. Her carriage brings her home. I see
her every movement in my head...Undressing,
taking off her jewels, her slim hand reaching
for the case, slipping naked into bed, the way
she always does...And I lie here awake,
knowing the pearls are cooling even now
in the room where my mistress sleeps. All night
I feel their absence and I burn.
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