The conversation between your fingers and someone else’s skin. This is the most important discussion you can ever have.
Poor boy, there is no hope for you. I have discovered your great wound; this flower in your side is destroying you.
The first time her skin had touched his own the texture of the world had changed, grown warmer but also more expansive. He had felt permeable then; he had seeped into everything and everything into him.
— Lydia Millet, Oh Pure and Radiant Heart (TY to erospainter)
post proposals:go back now and say you’ve changed your mind! think of your family! you cannot make me.
what is it? jane, I’ve been so blind.