FIRE
Fette, from the series Silent March, Berlin, December 2011. More.
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Have I shocked you by the dirty things I wrote to you? You think perhaps that my love is a filthy thing. It is, darling, at some moments. I dream of you in filthy poses sometimes. I imagine things so very dirty that I will not write them until I see how you write yourself.
James Joyce, To Nora, Dublin, December 6, 1909. Via. More letters.
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