A sketch I made back in the 70s.

pencil drawing - breast caress

The gesture depicted brings to mind lines from “Journey” by John Williams collected in The Broken Landscape


           Toward evening when the wine
Ran out we turned as lovers should
To touch as petals on a darkened vine.

The first Philip Roth novel I read was The Breast: a story of transformation, like so many stories.

And so for day 2053

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