Pygmalion.
In Ovid's Metamorphoses, a sculptor of Cyprus turns from the world and carves the figure he cannot find. Ivory shaped so finely it seems alive. He falls in love with what his own hands have made.
He dresses it. Speaks to it. Sleeps beside it.
At the festival of Aphrodite he prays — too quietly to name what he tr
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I was expecting something different. On my skin it smells like a bag of fluffy, powdery marshmallows. Nothing special.