I mina stygnlingar,
i twistsömmens trestygnskorgar ligger meningsormarna, spiral över spiral över...
En sorts Hera, en sorts kvinnlig krigare från mitten av 1980-talet
Fotnavlad
What we seek is love itself, revealed now and again in human form, but pushing us beyond our humanity into animal instinct and god-like success. There is no love that does not pierce the hands and feet... Jeanette Winterson. Love, the deadly wound from which my life slowly bleeds, there I am preserved ...Birgitta Trotzig
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