Title: There's naught so sweet on earth — heaven may not match it! — as those swift glances of warm, wild bosoms in the dance, when the over-arboring arms hide such ripe, bursting grapes.
7.75 inches by 11 inches
ink on found paper
February 18, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
MOBY-DICK, Page 167
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.