There is only one thing to see in the twilight realm of desire.
It is called the threshold.
The fortless of desire.
Desire has always lived on the edge.
The threshold is larger than you can imagine. It is a statue of desire, him-, her-, or it-self.(desire has never been satisfied with just one sex. or just one of anything--excepting only perhaps the threshould it self).
The threshould is a portait of desire, complete in all details, built from the fancy of desire out of blood, and flesh, and bone, and skin.
And, like every true citadel since time began, the threshould is inhabited.
Desire is endless.
The threshold is far too large for just one person.
And empty, echoing veins, like tunnels. You will walk them until you grow old and die whitout once retracing your steps.
Given desire's temperament, however, there was only one place in the catredal of its body to make its home.
Desire lives in the heart.