Honey-Love Salve

Oh dear, the softness in this photo is making my heart feel squishy and spineless (not like it had a spine to begin with, but if it did, it would have dissipated into oblivion), and I think it’s weeping. Yes, my heart is weeping tears. Tears are coming from my heart chambers instead of my eyes….oh now they are falling from my eyes too. Digression: The delicateness of Sophie Rundle’’s hands get me every time I see them. Don’t they get you too? So attractive, gentle, & naturally beautiful. Anne Lister’’s features, having seen them just moments prior to this, hardened and angry, as she screams into the valleys below, are transformed to embody softness from Ann Walker’’s reassuring touch and heartening presence. Finally…after prolonged angst, AL’s relaxation is delightfully perceptible as AW soothes her spirit with her secret-recipe lesbian honey-love salve (also goes great on toast or in tea, and as it happens, kicks a scratchy throat to the curb in no time flat (by curb I mean the same place my heart’s spine ended up at the beginning of this post))