all this egg discourse and not one post about oviposition? honestly. do i have to do everything myself around here.
Fear of eating, fear of the edible, fear on the part of the one of them who feels loved, desired, who wants to be loved, desired, who desires to be desired, who knows there is no greater proof of love than the other’s appetite, who is dying to be eaten up, who says or doesn’t say, but who signifies: I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow. And yet manage it so as to keep me alive. But I often turn about or compromise, because I know that you won’t eat me up, in the end, and I urge you: bite me.
Sign my death with your teeth.
Hélène Cixous, Stigmata: Escaping Texts
Ellen von Unwerth - Shalom Harlow Wearing a Dress by Karl Lagerfeld for Chloé (Vogue 1993)




