I must confess, I have fallen prey to Cupid's arrow. Upon first stumbling across the object of my passion (introduced by a friend), I knew it was love. Yet alas, I fear it is love of the unrequited type, for I find myself in love with a word, a French word at that.
'Phacochère' (noun, masculine, meaning: warthog) .
The image conjured by phacochère might well be a warthog, admittedly not one of nature's beauty triumphs, but it is a beautiful word to say! If only a word could love you back...
