Wilde Vane

  Twitter  FaceBook  Pinterest  My Posts  My face 
I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”- Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

Trini. fashion. art. feminism. faith.
Flag Counter