Once more I bite the olive. Once more my tongue is electrified. And the third stage in my temporary transformation takes place. I am now a supremely contented sensualist. An exquisite symphony of sensualism and pleasure seems to play somewhere within me. My heart purrs. My brain folds its arms and lounges.
(…) I experience a feeling of fervent gladness that I am a female thing living, and that I have a tongue and some teeth, and salivary glands (…)

Mary MacLane, I Await the Devil's Coming, 1903

Esta noche me hiciste sentir igual que Mary MacLane. Y ahora escribo en Medium.

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