«It is the mouth of a volcano. Yes, mouth; and the lava tongue. A body, a monstrous living body, both male and female. Emit, throw. It is also an interior, an abyss. Something alive that can die. Something inert that shakes from time to time. Which exists only intermittently. A constant threat. Although predictable, usually not predicted. Capricious, indomitable, smelly. Is this what the primitives meant? The sleepy giant who wakes up….” (The Volcano Lover, Susang Sontag)
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