He Doesn’t Just Look Upset—he Looks Newly

I Am Made For Running. Because When You Run, You Could Be Anyone. You Hone Yourself Into A Body, Nothing More Or Less Than A Body. You Respond As A Body, To The Body. If You Are Racing To Win, You Have No Thoughts But The Body's Thoughts, No Goals But The Body's Goals. You Obliterate Yourself In The Name Of Speed. You Negate Yourself In Order To Make It Past The Finish Line.

It Is Not Desire. Instead It Is Something Deeper. I Don't Want To Be With Him Constantly And Forever. I Want To Be With Him For The Moment, And I Want The Moments To Go On Forever.

Dullness Is The Spice Of Life. Which Is Why We Must Always Use Other Spices.

They Don’t Have Silences Together; They Have Noise. Mostly His.

And I Told You: I Think Of A Photograph You Took Of Me, Up In Montreal. You Told Me To Jump In The Air, So In The Picture, My Feet Are Off The Ground. Later, I Asked You Why You Wanted Me To Do That, And You Told Me It Was The Only Way To Get Me To Forget About The Expression On My Face. You Were Right. I Am Completely Unposed, Completely Genuine. In My Mind’s Eye, I Picture Myself Like That, Reacting To You.