In the end, it's bodies. It's women's bodies, turned to the service of magic. Magic in service to the city. In the end, it's a city of marble and of water dancing through fountains, a city perched on the edge of the beautiful, winding Potomac River.
In the end, it's bodies. It's women's bodies, bodies both grounded and skied, bodies inside a circle cast by a woman, in her woman's body, blocks from a capitol like a wedding cake, an obelisk, a reflecting pool.
In the end, it's bodies. It's women's bodies, bodies in need of magic, in need of broth, in need of blankets, in need of warmth, in need of a safe place to stay in a city of marble and water and fountains and wedding cakes and obelisks and monuments of marble.
In the end, it's bodies. It's women's bodies. In the end, it's women's bodies.
Photo found here.
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