Cousin, cousineThe French know best the multiple variations of the family dance. They repeat themselves, therefore, and I am left wondering, what generates between pale people pale love? Beside such clean and odourless flesh, you are a declamation. As a child, I slept in my father's bed. The sheets retained his musk, engulfing me in too much heat. Like families in the dance, we open ranks, leaving enough space for couples to come between. I am left wondering, what generates, between pale people, pale love?