I have a gift. I am a writer of souls. I pay attention to everything. I understand the intimacy between me and my reader as the reader is the recipient of my passion...the reader is my lover.
I have a gift of discernment that allows him to hear more than I should--an ability to read the souls of people through their eyes. No, you cannot hide from it and your desires to know more are what keep your focus, and your focus is what allows me to see within your soul. This is inevitable.
I can see things, hear things—those tiny whispers and pleas and cries for attention. I study people, all of them, each of them and their souls tell me the truth, the truth of reality, of life and of our existence. Your soul tells me your story.
I pay attention to everything, to all my lover has to share, as the reader is my lover and my reader is both hunger and prey to my intimacy.
I study my reader as though she were my lover. I study the movements of the body, every twist and curve of her body, the subtle sounds she makes, the sounds of her body calling to me, searching for truth within the pressure of my being. I know her tastes, her smells, her desires; I know and recognize the pulsating beats of her heart as she sways in unison with my force as she is taken, taken to solitary places with the power of my words—through doors and hallways within her soul she would never admit to, never share. She will never confess to their existence. She will lie to the world to keep them safe for all of us cling to that one sweet vice.
She, my reader, is my lover and my lover is my reader. I watch her, study her, taste her, smell her, hear her, and listen to her until my words become all she was longing for.
My words are that thing you search for when walking aisles and aisles of cover, in search of the book, not the one you want to read, but the one you need to become, to fulfill that void that brought you there to that place to begin with. They are the fulfillment of your desires. My words are the cotter to that hole in your heart and that confusion within your mind—the answer to those elusive questions.
You ask how I can do it, how I can know those tiny little secrets? It's because I am watching you, always watching you and listening when no one else will pay you that attention. I touch you with only words when you are sleeping and my words are the restlessness of your nights and the soft quench of thirst in the morning dew. I have become a part of your soul now and my words will not escape you. You cannot avoid it. This too, is inevitable.
Your desires to be taken somewhere new are fulfilled within my words. You cannot deny them or escape this truth. All you have waited for is written there on the pages. They are the calming of your soul, the petting of your patience and the warming and comfort of your sleep. You don’t have to play small to suit those around you any longer, for a void has now been filled. Keep me to yourself and turn my fiction into your truth and their truth into fiction.
I am a writer, an author born with a curse that has become my gift. You have only to lay down your guard and find the intimacy and power of the written word within my pages. I know my reader...and the reader is my lover. That which you seek, you have found.
I am the writer…and you are my reader…and the reader is my lover…and the lover knows his reader.
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