I Felt Like An Undeveloped Photograph That

That Kind Of Tenderness Couldn't Be Permitted To Last. You Only Got A Taste, Enough To Know What Perfection Meant, And Then You Paid For It The Rest Of Your Life. Like The Guy Chained To A Rock, Who Stole Fire. The Gods Made An Eagle Eat His Liver For All Eternity. You Paid For Every Second Of Beauty You Managed To Steal.

She Was A Beautiful Woman Dragging A Crippled Foot And I Was That Foot. I Was Bricks Sewn Into The Hem Of Her Clothes, I Was A Steel Dress

Writing Mirrors The Interior Self. You Know, Any Book Is Like The Perfect Blueprint Of The Psyche Of The Author.

A Person Didn’t Need To Be Beautiful, They Just Needed To Be Loved. But I Couldn’t Help Wanting It. If That Was The Way I Could Be Loved, To Be Beautiful, I’d Take It

Only Peons Made Excusses For Themselves She Taught Me. Never Apologize, Never Explain.