A man who from the beginning has long been soaked in the languid atmosphere of a woman, the scent of her hands, her bosom, her knees, her hair, her lithe and flowing clothes, Sweet bath, suavely Scented with ointments, has acquired a delicacy of skin, a refinement of tone, a kind of androgyny without which the toughest and most virile of geniuses remains, when it comes to artistic perfection, an incomplete being
grett:

untitled by Joe St.Pierre // Joestpierrephoto.com on Flickr.

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And the moon,
under its dark hood,
falls out of the sky each night,
with its hungry red mouth
to suck at my scars.
mrcoddington:

Anthropologie July Lookbook
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