by Lovis Corinth (1858–1925)
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
I breathe in...
the fragrance
of love, and moist sand
the one
his roses left
on both my hands
I just keep on breathing
every moment
as much as I can
preserving it, in my body
for the day
it can’t.
― Sanober Khan, A touch, a tear, a tempest
There had never been such roses as those that bloomed that summer. They clambered everywhere and dripped as if perspiring the heaviest most intoxicating perfume, which seemed to make the very masonry drunk. The senses fused; sometimes these roses emitted low but intolerably piercing pentatonic melodies which were the sound of their deep crimson colour and yet we heard them inside our nostrils.
― Angela Carter, The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman
My digitally enhanced version of the above painting can be downloaded as a high-res 8.5” x 10” @ 300 ppi JPEG without a watermark here.

Digitally enhanced reproductions of public domain fine art are shared under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.



