Can't stop being oxytocinated by Lydia Davis's "What You Learn About the Baby" in Varieties of Disturbance. "You are lying on the bed nursing him, but you are not holding on to him with your arms or hands and he is not holding on to you. He is connected to you by a single nipple." p. 119

And completely different, also Eileen Myles piece "Rene" in latest issue of Shiny. Makes me nostalgic for NY I never knew. "The houses are open and all you need is about three of you to go everywhere and make these gauzy invisible strings between people. It just makes sense that so many of us had time during the day and would stand in one another's kitchen. Smoking and talking and watching our faces change in the light." p. 41