On the violence of tidying an artist out of 'love.' The erotic thrill of his resistance.
“My pathetic desperate fingers, smoothing down the hair of his sentences, afraid, what, that the school masters won’t let him in to the academy? Who am I so afraid of? I am scum.” So good lol
“My pathetic desperate fingers, smoothing down the hair of his sentences, afraid, what, that the school masters won’t let him in to the academy? Who am I so afraid of? I am scum.” So good lol