Get Rid Of Things Or You'll Spend

It Has Been My Face. It's Got Older Still, Or Course, But Less, Comparatively, Than It Would Otherwise Have Done. It's Scored With Deep, Dry Wrinkles, The Skin Is Cracked. But My Face Hasn't Collapsed, As Some With Fine Feature Have Done. It's Kept The Same Contours, But Its Substance Has Been Laid Waste. I Have A Face Laid Waste.

I Meet You. I Remember You. Who Are You? You’re Destroying Me. You’re Good For Me. How Could I Know This City Was Tailor-made For Love? How Could I Know You Fit My Body Like A Glove? I Like You. How Unlikely. I Like You. How Slow All Of A Sudden. How Sweet. You Cannot Know. You’re Destroying Me. You’re Good For Me. You’re Destroying Me. You’re Good For Me. I Have Time. Please, Devour Me. Deform Me To The Point Of Ugliness. Why Not You? Why Not You In This City And In This Night, So Like Other Cities And Other Nights You Can Hardly Tell The Difference? I Beg Of You.

The Outrage Was On The Scale Of God. My Younger Brother Was Immortal And They Hadn't Noticed. Immortality Had Been Concealed In My Brother's Body While He Was Alive, And We Hadn't Noticed That It Dwelt There. Now My Brother's Body Was Dead, And Immortality With It. ... And The Error, The Outrage, Filled The Whole Universe.

I've Known You For Years. Everyone Says You Were Beautiful When You Were Young, But I Want To Tell You I Think You're More Beautiful Now Than Then. Rather Than Your Face As A Young Woman, I Prefer Your Face As It Is Now. Ravaged.

One Must Talk. That's How It Is. One Must.