Azanique

“I’m a horticulturist.” Ms. Della’s mouth dropped open. “A whore-to-what, now?” “No, I’m a HORTICULTURIST,” she pronounced carefully. “Ah. My hearing. Go on.”
― Tia Williams, A Love Song for Ricki Wilde

“There aren’t enough sonnets for friendship. Not enough songs for the kind of love not born of blood or body but of time and care. They are the ones we choose to laugh and cry and live with. When lovers come and go, friends are the ones who remain. We are each other’s constants.”
― Kennedy Ryan, This Could Be Us