Before I Could Read, Almost A Baby,

I Have Tried," I Said, "but He Does Not Believe Me. It Is Too Late For That Now" (it Is Always Too Late For Truth, I Thought).

It Was The Darkness That Got You. It Was Heavy Darkness, Greasy And Compelling. It Made Walls Round You, And Shut You In So That You Felt Like You Could Not Breathe.

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.

Life If Curious When Reduced To Its Essentials

Yes, I Am Sad, Sad As A Circus-lioness, Sad As An Eagle Without Wings, Sad As A Violin With Only One String And That One Broken, Sad As A Woman Who Is Growing Old. Sad, Sad, Sad.