The problem isn’t to learn to love humanity, but to learn to love those members of it who happen to be at hand.
The problem isn’t to learn to love humanity, but to learn to love those members of it who happen to be at hand.
“Luciana and I spread boundless, oceans of braided wildwood. I said our adventure and she yes, brought things that said she wanted to agree. A patterned dress, a pound of sliced meat, a thin bra that turned her the pearlescence of a shell. We slipped into the hive some lustrous word, carving wooden houses, translating each other into texture and light.”
Alyssa Morhardt-Goldstein | Nympholepsy