Kissing the tendril fingers - at first because Mina, its mother, did not - but later with a rapture begot by its breath on her breast.

The architecture throughout NYC is amazing.

Well, speaking for myself as a trans woman: Certainly it's hard to argue that it doesn't repeat and reinforce all sorts of tired transmisogynist tropes, or that the song doesn't have a nasty hetero-cis sneer underneath it.

The most diaphanous wings carry a burden of pollen from flower to flower.