Morning Comes Like A Scream Through A

She Pulls Away, Pats Me On The Shoulder With Three Mini-pats, Like Those Used To Pet Reptiles.

To Me Any Given Story Has Its Appropriate Form. There Might Be Some Story I Get Involved With That's Begging To Be A Graphic Novel, So That Will Have To Be That Way.

Some Of These Kids Just Don't Plain Know How Good They Are: How Smart And How Much They Have To Say. You Can Tell Them. You Can Shine That Light On Them, One Human Interaction At A Time.

She Felt Some Measure Of Relief Knowing That In The Very Least, On The Open Road She Would Have Some Time To Think.

We Have No Choice. We Need The Communion Of Souls And Only Here Are They Awake.