Everything In Life Is Writable.

I Lean To You, Numb As A Fossil. Tell Me I'm Here.

Perhaps When We Find Ourselves Wanting Everything, It Is Because We Are Dangerously Close To Wanting Nothing.

That Afternoon My Mother Had Brought Me The Roses. "save Them For My Funeral," I'd Said.

All The Heat And Fear Had Purged Itself. I Felt Surprisingly At Peace. The Bell Jar Hung Suspended A Few Feet Above My Head. I Was Open To The Circulating Air.

That Is Salvation. To Give Of Love Inside. To Keep Love Of Life, No Matter What, And Give To Others. Generously.