You Missed A Lot Of Heartache, Sure.

He Fished In His Pocket For His Keys And Instead Pulled Out The Last Geode, Gray And Smooth, Earth-shaped. He Held It, Warming In His Palm, Thinking Of All Mysteries The World Contained: Layers Of Stone, Concealed Beneath The Flesh Of Earth And Grass; These Dull Rocks, With Their Glimmering Hidden Hearts.

The City Of Pittsburgh Gleaming Suddenly Before Her . . . So Startling In Its Vastness And Its Beauty That She Had Gasped And Slowed, Afraid Of Losing Control Of The Car

He'd Kept This Silence Because His Own Secrets Were Darker, More Hidden, And Because He Believed That His Secrets Had Created Hers.

It Seemed There Was No End At All To The Lies A Person Could Tell, Once She Got Started.

The Thing Is, I Used To Like That: Feeling Special Because I Knew Something No One Else Did. It's A Kind Of Power, Isn't It, Knowing A Secret? But Lately I Don't Like It So Much, Knowing This. It's Not Really Mine To Know, Is It?