Frida Kahlo — "Diego: Nothing compares to your hands. Nothing like the green-gold of your eyes.…"
Diego: Nothing compares to your hands. Nothing like the green-gold of your eyes. My body is filled with you for days and days, you are the mirror of the night, the violent flash of lighting. The dampness of the earth. The hollow of your armpits is my shelter. My fingertips touch your blood. All my joy is to feel life spring from your flower-fountain that mine keeps to fill all the paths of my nerves which are yours.
