I am spending the day letting Zoey poke me in the eye. We might plant a few succulents, too. But mostly we'll just be poking each other in the eye.
Vintage photo of me poking my own mother in the eye. North Carolina, 1977. It must run in the family.
1 comment:
Anonymous
said...
My favorite is when they clamp their grubby fingernails just below your teeth and under your tongue, then pull you close to stare deeply into your eyes. Mmm...Love!
Hi, I'm Susannah and I love shiny things, swimming, the smell of fresh cut grass, orange blossoms and horse shit. The feel of my children's eyelashes on my cheek is a live virus that grows in me, multiplies and sustains. I will never understand Amish Friendship Bread.
I write for love but money works, too. Email me for more info, or just to say hello.
susannah.ink@gmail.com
1 comment:
My favorite is when they clamp their grubby fingernails just below your teeth and under your tongue, then pull you close to stare deeply into your eyes.
Mmm...Love!
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