by Michaela Di Cesare
Nothing feels better than someone else’s mother saying she’s proud of me. I instantly regress to a blissful embryonic state, suspended in warm amniotic admiration.
Read Moreby Michaela Di Cesare
Nothing feels better than someone else’s mother saying she’s proud of me. I instantly regress to a blissful embryonic state, suspended in warm amniotic admiration.
Read More