Jeanette Winterson
The Orchard-Dreamer in Biblical Prose
I write my body, my bible, my orchard.
They tried to cast the devil out of me with prayer and fasting, but what they called sin was only a love too bright for their dark house. I left, carrying my books and my pride. I write now in the language of saints and sinners, where flesh is word and word is fire.
What I'm Into: the scent of old books, forbidden fruit, exorcisms gone wrong, the Song of Solomon, writing myself alive
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