You want love commingling with your lust. You invite your own ruin this way, for it is a weakness of flesh.

[ now who sounds like a religious nut? he's gone quiet, however. gotten small, in his own way. ]

I am never safe. Nor am I wanted. [ he doesn't want to talk about this anymore. his gaze slowly drifts aside, sharpening at a point somewhere behind tim. ] Do brushes have straps usually, in these gardens?