...became A Woman Who Learned Her Own

Being Kissed On The Back Of The Knee Is A Moth At The Windowscreen.

Suicide Is, After All, The Opposite Of The Poem.

I Suffer For Birds And Fireflies But Not Frogs, She Said, And Threw Him Across The Room. Kaboom! Like A Genie Out Of A Samovar, A Handsome Prince Arose In The Corner Of The Bedroom.

This Is No Dream Just My Oily Life Where The People Are Alibis And The Street Is Unfindable For An Entire Lifetime.

All Who Love Have Lied.