Richard Brautigan, “Boo, Forever”
“I am my own experiment. I am my own work of art.”
"… and yet somehow, her words materialised in his dreams. He saw great oceans, felt the sun burn down and tasted the salt in his sweat, he saw her there, coarse and in her truest form. There was no love to begin with, only liberty, and so to him she became an allegorical figure, standing for everything he never knew he had desired.."
Nothing compares to your hands, nothing like the green-gold of your eyes. My body is filled with you for days and days. you are the mirror of the night. the violent flash of lightning. the dampness of the earth. The hollow of your armpits is my shelter. my fingers touch your blood. All my joy is to feel life spring from your flower-fountain that mine keeps to fill all the paths of my nerves which are yours.
Frida Kahlo in The Diary of Frida Kahlo: An Intimate Self-Portrait
Song: “Nothing Compares 2 U” by Sinéad O’Connor