Silly Dance, No Mercy
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By Emily Featherman.
“There is no democracy in any love relation: only mercy”
—Gillian Rose, Love’s Work
He did a silly dance in a bar, a dance so silly that it had no regard for choreography, ego, or social order. At the afterparty he talked about civil religion, his gentle head at rest on the cushion of a sunken couch. Hours later, over the laps of their friends, their eyes met –hello– and a passage appeared leading to a light, empty plain. The silence of the place fell through
“There is no democracy in any love relation: only mercy”
—Gillian Rose, Love’s Work
He did a silly dance in a bar, a dance so silly that it had no regard for choreography, ego, or social order. At the afterparty he talked about civil religion, his gentle head at rest on the cushion of a sunken couch. Hours later, over the laps of their friends, their eyes met –hello– and a passage appeared leading to a light, empty plain. The silence of the place fell through
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