Appetizing

"I can smell it on you. The repression. The shame."

"Of course you can, I'm an angel."

"No. Not all angels are repressed, not all angels are ashamed. Not like this. This is different."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't want that halo. You think you want it. You WANT to want it. You desperately wish you could just be clean and pure and useful, but deep down you know that there are layers of you which will never be clean, urges in your unconscious that will never be useful. Deeper than that, you want to give in to that filth."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do. Knowing these things is an art form to me, I've dedicated my energy and my passion and my life to developing my eye for them. You could almost say it's my very own Purpose. Although, I don't feel any obligation to it, I just like it. And, as I said, I can smell it on you. I can almost see it radiating out of your pores. The desire."

"Then what is it I want, exactly, if you have such a trained nose for it?"

"Well, it doesn't quite work like that. I can smell the shame, not hear the thoughts it's trying to mask. I'm not a mind reader, dear, I just recognize desire when I see it. I can tell you this much though. Whatever it is you're holding yourself back from, I'm more than willing to help you accept it."