Love Letter: Georgia O'Keeffe to Alfred Stieglitz

Dearest,
My body is simply crazy with wanting you. I don’t see how I can wait for you.
I wonder if your body wants mine in the way mine wants yours; the kisses, the hotness,
the wetness all melting together-the being held so tight that it hurts.

How I wanted to photograph you: the hands, the mouth and eyes  and the enveloped in black body.
The touch of white and the throat.
How much we have in common. Traits. Both turning everything we touch into something really living and amusing for ourselves.
Both can laugh, really laugh even at our heartaches.
300 years you want to live!  I wish I could give you that as a gift.

You will be here in a few minutes, but I have to get up and write you- its necessary.
I must. I've been lying here listening for you in the dark. My face feels so hot,
aching for you way down to my finger ends. An actual physical ache.
As I came up the street into the sunset after supper I wondered; can I stand it:
The terrible fineness and beauty of the intensity of you? I do not know. It seems almost too much.
And lying here, wanting you with such an all ache-not just wanting- loving, feeling
all the parts of my body touched and kissed are conscious of you.
A volcano is nothing to it.
Feeling it grow; I seem to feel that the moment will come when I can't control myself.

The woman you are making seems to have gone far beyond me. Almost out of sight.
I am on my back – waiting to be spread wide apart.
The pleasure of you – the sensuousness of you touching the sensuousness of me – all my body,
all of me is waiting for you to touch the center of me with the center of you.
When I feel how your touching my body, getting into my body-has given all of me to you,
all of you to me as much as one human being can get into and feel another of another;
I wonder if there is any difference in body, spirit,soul and mind.

Its my body that wants you and it seems to be the only thought or desire that I have.
Two bodies that have fused, have touched with completeness at both ends making a complete circuit, making them one.
A circle that nothing can break. You have given me the circle of the most painful intense pleasure.
I'm in such a state that I could write about this all day.

All I want is to preserve that wonderful something which so purely exists between us.