I Feel The Universe Is Telling Me

I'm Always Standing On The Edge Of Something Bad.

I Wake Up Feverish, Sore, Uncomfortable. Is It Sickness Or Is It Heartbreak? I Can't Tell. The Thermometer Says I'm Normal, But I'm Clearly Not.

And I Find Myself Saying, “it Wasn’t Really About Her.” And Finding It’s True. What Do You Mean?” Norah Asks. It Was About The Feeling, You Know? She Caused It In Me, But It Wasn’t About Her. It Was About My Reaction, What I Wanted To Feel And Then Convinced Myself That I Felt, Because I Wanted It That Bad. That Illusion. It Was Love Because I Created It As Love.

His Books Are Kept On Freestanding Shelves Hung At Different Angles On A Sea-green Wall. They Defy Gravity, As Good Books Should.

You Existed. You Existed Now As A Fractal. Definition: A Fractal Is Generally A Rough Or Fragmented Geometric Shape That Can Be Broken Into Parts, Each Of Which Is (at Least Approximately) A Reduced-size Copy Of The Whole. Maybe I Was A Fractal. Maybe The Photographer Was A Fractal. Maybe We Were All Fractals.