Anything Incomprehensible Has A Sexual Significance To

I Don’t Suppose I Really Know You Very Well - But I Know You Smell Like The Delicious Damp Grass That Grows Near Old Walls And That Your Hands Are Beautiful Opening Out Of Your Sleeves And That The Back Of Your Head Is A Mossy Sheltered Cave When There Is Trouble In The Wind And That My Cheek Just Fits The Depression In Your Shoulder.

Something In Me Vibrates To A Dusky, Dreamy Smell Of Dying Moons And Shadows.

I Suppose All We Can Really Share With People Is A Taste For The Same Kinds Of Weather.

They Hadn't Much Faith In Travel, Nor A Great Belief In A Change Of Scene As A Panacea For Spiritual Ills; They Were Simply Glad To Be Going.

Other People's Ideas Of Us Are Dependent Largely On What They've Hoped For.