When I Think About It, If I

...morbidly, Attracted Him To Strangeness, To Recklessnesss, Even Unhappiness.

Something Came Out From My Heart Into My Throat And Then Into My Eyes.

All Of A Writer That Matters Is In The Book Or Books. It Is Idiotic To Be Curious About The Person.

Quite Like Old Times,' The Room Says.

As Soon As I Turned The Key I Saw It Hanging, The Color Of Fire And Sunset. The Colour Of Flamboyant Flowers. ‘if You Are Buried Under A Flamboyant Tree, ‘ I Said, ‘your Soul Is Lifted Up When It Flowers. Everyone Wants That.’ She Shook Her Head But She Did Not Move Or Touch Me.