Like water for ice

This entry is part 12 of 16 in the series Postcards from a Conquistador


Pome: 'The women there gave their love away as if it were water. The next morning we made them take baptism. Every time the priest mentioned love, he raised his eyes toward the only heaven he knew.'

(See the photo minus the words here.)

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9 Replies to “Like water for ice”

  1. Just on its own, that’s one heck of a stunning photo.
    Add the words and it’s quite a composition.
    I particularly like the white words floating
    among the spaces between the icy canes.

  2. Ah yes. Superb. Absolutely superb. Particularly the confusion of sex with love. There ought to be a term for that like “pathetic fallacy”. Maybe “pathetic phallusy”.

  3. Thanks, all. “Pathetic phallusy” is great – deserves to catch on for sure!

    This postcard turned out OK, I guess, but when I was waking up this morning it occurred to me that I might’ve moved it up to the present day, and instead of the Church picked on water privitization schemes – a very conquistadorial thing, I think. Well, maybe I can tackle that some other time.

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