It Was A Kiss Small In Its

How Can My Ankles And Arms Be Obscene?

What --- You Don't Believe In True Love?" Petra Asked. "the Kind That Can Then Be Parlayed Into Awesome Merchandising Opportunities?" - "beauty Queens

And Just As I Begin To Believe That All Is Well, There Is Some Subtle Change In The Light. The Room Takes Its True Shape. I Fight To Go Back To That Blissful Ignorance, But It Is Too Late. The Dull Pain Of Truth Weights My Soul, Pulling It Under. I Am Left Hopelessly Awake.

On The Bowery, In The Ornate Carcass Of A Formerly Grand Vaudeville Theater, A Dance Marathon Limps Along. The Contestants, Young Girls And Their Fellas, Hold One Another Up, Determined To Make Their Mark, To Bite Back At The Dreams Sold To Them In Newspaper Advertisements And On The Radio. They Have Sores On Their Feet But Stars In Their Eyes.

In Each Of Us Lie Good And Bad, Light And Dark, Art And Pain, Choice And Regret, Cruelty And Sacrifice. We’re Each Of Us Our Own Chiaroscuro, Our Own Bit Of Illusion Fighting To Emerge Into Something Solid, Something Real. We’ve Got To Forgive Ourselves That. I Must Remember To Forgive Myself. Because There Is A Lot Of Grey To Work With. No One Can Live In The Light All The Time.