Art Need No Longer Be An Account

Nostalgia, The Vice Of The Aged. We Watch So Many Old Movies Our Memories Come In Monochrome.

There Is A Striking Resemblance Between The Act Of Love And The Ministrations Of A Torturer.

What A Joy It Is To Dance And Sing!

She Stood Lost In Eternity Wearing A Crazy Dress, Watching The Immense Sky.

And Each Stroke Of His Tongue Ripped Off Skin After Successive Skin, All The Skins Of A Life In The World, And Left Behind A Nascent Patina Of Shining Hairs. My Earrings Turned Back To Water And Trickled Down My Shoulders; I Shrugged The Drops Off My Beautiful Fur.