I Knew Each Person's Delusion, The Places

I Think One Of The Reasons To Be Here On Earth Is To Finally Be Who We Are, At All Times - To Know And Be Predictable To Ourselves.

Old Love, Middle Love, The Kind Of Love That Knows Itself And Knows That Nothing Lasts, Is A Desperate Shared Wildness.

I Tried Out The Unfamiliar Syllables. They Fit. They Cracked In My Ears Like A Fist Through Ice.

When Small Towns Find They Cannot Harm The Strangest Of Their Members, When Eccentrics Show Resilience, They Are Eventually Embraced And Even Cherished.

Our Tribe Unraveled Like A Coarse Rope, Frayed At Either End As The Old And New Among Us Were Taken.