February 2012
17 posts
The Lair: Airy and full of light: What Lot's Wife... →
eating-poetry:
Do you remember when we met in Gomorrah? When you were still beardless, and I would oil my hair in the lamp light before seeing you, when we were young, and blushed with youth like bruised fruit. Did we care then what our neighbors did in the dark?
When our first…
I WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF THESE. NEVER.
pouncingpanda:
