I know that all women wait. They wait for future life, for all those images forged in solitude, for all that forest that moves toward them; for all that immense promise that is a man; a pomegranate that suddenly is opened and showed its shining red seed; a pomegranate like a ripe mouth with a thousand sections. Later those hours lived imagination, ( Read more... )

owl-hoot → tumblr
rabbitqueen → robo.to
rabbitqueen → lookbook