body | disembodied
Sometimes I think there are worms in my eyes.
she’s ripe, holding her / pieces together / by tearable strings & / bruisable skin
Last week, when I was walking to class, it was 60 degrees and sunny.
He didn’t want to play, but you pressured him.
I was not sure what to expect from a class called Pleasure Activism Across Time, but having taken a class with its professor, Lisa Speidel, before,
Out of all the creative minds I could have selected to illuminate the essence of love, I had to choose the metaphysical poet, John Donne, and conte
I must feed my body and soul
where i come from, there are sharks in every lake
This latest edition of Iris is urgently interested in all things "Body and Disembodied".
