When I Got Older I Decided I

And It's Like Some Tiny Nothing That Sets Off A Natural Disaster Halfway Across The World, Only This Was The Opposite Of Disaster, How By Accident She Saved Me With That Thoughtless Act Of Grace, And She Never Knew, And How That, Too, Is The Part Of The History Of Love.

I Have Always Written About Characters Who Fall Somewhere In The Spectrum Between Solitary And Totally Alienated.

Wittgenstein Once Wrote That When The Eye Sees Something Beautiful, The Hand Wants To Draw It. I Wish I Could Draw You.

Part Of Me Is Made Of Glass, And Also, I Love You.

At Times I Believed That The Last Page Of My Book And The Last Page Of My Life Were One And The Same, That When My Book Ended I'd End, A Great Wind Would Sweep Through My Rooms Carrying The Pages Away, And When The Air Cleared Of All Those Fluttering White Sheets The Room Would Be Silent, The Chair Where I Sat Empty.