coming back to the things you loved when you were younger feels so special
From “Honey, we built Chernobyl or: a cigar-shaped shelter” group art show at Krakow, 2019
“When my beloved calls my name— in the bathtub, in her bed, over the telephone, into a microphone or my ear— it closes my eyes, buckles me, thralls my insides with the sweet terror of being recognized. Sometimes, we cannot bear the thing we crave.”
— Melissa Febos, from “Call My Name,” published in Prairie Schooner (via ofveins)
