Nicole peels herself like a fruit, slipping out of her tight yellow skirt to bare herself for herself, fully nude on the white sheets. Her beauty was obvious before, but now it overwhelms me. With her sustained, heavy-lidded gaze aimed through the lens, her juice flowing audibly, I think of goddesses of night, and fertility, Pablo Nerudas sonnet xvii as she wraps her own delicate hand around her throat, I love her as certain dark things are to be loved.
