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coming back to the things you loved when you were younger feels so special
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From “Honey, we built Chernobyl or: a cigar-shaped shelter” group art show at Krakow, 2019
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“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)
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https://www.instagram.com/p/Bt7Os7iAdk1/?igshid=10rxzn7lcvl6l
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