Read the entire review here.
"In Lila Zemborain’s mauve sea-orchids we are presented with a field of blurred bodies, pearlescent with longing and without barrier. There is no immutable inside or outside here except in the most exorbitant sense — everything is inside, and everything is outside. Or, more precisely perhaps, these bodies are not quite borderless but sensually dissected into permeable components that, propelled by love or desire, gingerly grope for each other in their ocean of blindness and vertigo. . . ."