Tuesday.

Vou caçar-te. Caçar-te entre a fúria e fome de rasgar, de raspar, de arrancar a película que cobre os teus lábios de outro paladar. Vou ouvir crepitar e dançar no brilho cristalino das suas faíscas. Reencarnar a Inquisição. Vou. Caçar-te.

You could fucking eat him! He's just A boy!

You could eat him. He's a boy. You say your husband is just no good to you. His Jew-Mama guards his sweet sex like a pearl. You have one baby, I have two. I should sit on a rock off Cornwall and comb my hair. I should wear tiger pants, I should have an affair. We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, Me and you.

- Sylvia Plath