we are so obsessed with beauty that we forget that love has nothing to do with beauty. love doesn’t presuppose beauty: love creates it. beauty is a finite thing, love is not. beauty cannot come before love, but love makes anything beautiful.
I want someone to write a book where Mermaids are the women thrown off ships when the sailors got afraid because having a woman on the boat is bad luck. And as they sink to the bottom legs tied together they change slowly until they can breath, until they can use their tied up legs to swim. And they drown sailors in revenge, luring them in by singing in their husky voices still stinging from the salt water they breathed.
