I often think of beauty. What is it? Does it come from the planet? Radiating out of its molten core? Like our second bodies—how can anyone look at theirs and not know their beauty?
Journal of Consciousness, Literature, and Art
I often think of beauty. What is it? Does it come from the planet? Radiating out of its molten core? Like our second bodies—how can anyone look at theirs and not know their beauty?