Aug 06, 2006 21:13
Struck just now by a memory of my mom, on my prone dad's back, popping pimples. How fully is my sense of love informed by those private scenes. The simply inclusive power of the tactile. The mundane intimacies whose warm windings resist morals and grotesqueries.
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I was just struck recently by an extremely similar moment...a man scanning his boyfriend's back for cancerous lesions, treating them with ointment. I could be nothing but grateful for being allowed to witness something so private.
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