We kiss with mouths full of flowers or fish, of living moments, of dark fragrance. And if we bite each other, the pain is sweet, and if we drown in a short and terrible surge of breath, that instant death is beauty. And there is a single saliva and a single flavour of ripe fruit, and I can feel you shiver against me like a moon on the water.
— Julio Cortázar, Hopscotch

// for an upcoming Jaspisdot siren au

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