Viewed: 35 - Published at: 5 years ago

We had known it would be hard to leave this island of women where on our skin the warm rain fell like pomegranate seeds, where we woke to birdcall and slept to the First Mother's singing, where we swam naked without shame in lakes of blue lotus. To exchange it for the human world whose harshness we remembered. But this?

( Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni )
[ The Mistress of Spices ]
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