Isn't It Strange That I Know You'd

And To Us, We're More Married Than Any Piece Of Paper Or Big Party Could Make Us.

It's There. The White Rose Among The Dried Flowers In The Vase. Shriveled And Fragile, But Holding On To That Unnatural Perfection Cultivated In Snows Greenhouse. I Grab The Vase, Stumble Down To The Kitchen, And Throw Its Contents Into The Embers. As The Flowers Flare Up, A Burst Of Blue Flame Envelops The Rose And Devours It. Fire Beats Roses Again.

This Is The First Kiss That We're Both Fully Aware Of. Neither Of Us Hobbled By Sickness Or Pain Or Simply Unconscious. Our Lips Neither Burning With Fever Or Icy Cold. This Is The First Kiss Where I Actually Feel Stirring Inside My Chest. Warm And Curious. This Is The First Kiss That Makes Me Want Another.

Maybe I'll Be Like That Man In "the Hanging Tree'. Still Waiting For An Answer.

Just Because People Starve In A Book, Doesn't Mean That We Will Starve In The Future.