Crowley loves people. He loves - game shows and toaster ovens and fast cars and statues and bad books and good music and wine and politics and stuffed dormice and stupid silver snuffboxes.
(upon thy belly shalt thou go)
He loves people.
(thy belly cleaving to the Earth)
It's easy to forget how much he loves the world.
(so close that your hand on my chest is my hand)
He'd - he'd worked on Plants. And in the icy regions of the world, the sky rains colour and light for no good reason. It was just an accident.
(so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep)
( commala )