There Is No Insurmountable Solitude.

When I Sleep Every Night, What Am I Called Or Not Called? And When I Wake, Who Am I If I Was Not I While I Slept?

Take It All Back. Life Is Boring, Except For Flowers, Sunshine, Your Perfect Legs. A Glass Of Cold Water When You Are Really Thirsty. The Way Bodies Fit Together. Fresh And Young And Sweet. Coffee In The Morning. These Are Just Moments. I Struggle With The In-betweens. I Just Want To Never Stop Loving Like There Is Nothing Else To Do, Because What Else Is There To Do?

When Your Hands Leap Towards Mine, Love, What Do They Bring Me In Flight?

Will Our Life Not Be A Tunnel Between Two Vague Clarities? Or Will It Not Be A Clarity Between Two Dark Triangles?

Oh Each Successive Night That Comes Has Something In It Of An Abandoned Ember That Is Slowly Burning Out, And It Falls Swathed In Ruins, Surrounded By Funereal Objects.