I Carried Recipes In My Head Like

Anything Based On Ancient Texts Is Difficult For A Modern Reader To Get Their Head Around.

In My Dreams I Gorge On Chocolates, I Roll In Chocolates, And Their Texture Is Not Brittle But Soft As Flesh, Like A Thousand Mouths On My Body, Devouring Me In Fluttering Small Bites. To Die Beneath Their Tender Gluttony Seems The Culmination Of Every Temptation I Have Ever Known.

A Thing Named Is A Thing Tamed.

Anything That Can Be Dreamed Is True.

Life Is What You Celebrate. All Of It. Even Its End.