Right Now, I Have No Idea What

In The Desert The Most Loved Waters, Like A Lover's Name, Are Carried Blue In Your Hands, Enter Your Throat. One Swallows Absence.

She Had A Laugh That Hinted It Had Rolled Around Once Or Twice In The Mud.

He Turns His Back To The Far Shore And Rows Toward It. He Can In This Way Travel Away From, Yet Still See, His House....he Feels He Is Riding A Floating Skeleton...some Birds In The Almost-dark Are Flying As Close To Their Reflections As Possible.

There's A Lot Of Thievery Involved In Writing. You're Breaking Into Other People's Spaces And Other People's Stories.

You Think That You Are An Iconoclast, But You’re Not. You Just Move, Or Replace What You Cannot Have. If You Fail At Something, You Retreat Into Something Else. Nothing Changes You.... I Left You Because I Knew I Could Never Change You. You Would Stand In The Room So Still Sometimes, As If The Greatest Betrayal Of Yourself Would Be To Reveal One More Inch Of Your Character.