My Parents Believe In The Happy Endings

Home Pulls. It Draws You Back To Tell You You Don't Belong.

The Flesh Had Infinity In It. I Must Know Every Inch By Touch Yet Every Inch Renewed Its Mystery The Instant My Hand Moved On. Delightful Endless Futility.

Pain Is Beyond Reason, An Obliterating Giant Stupidity To Which All Your History Of Jokes And Nuance And Ideas And Caresses Is Nothing, Simply Nothing.

With Adolescent Egotism And A Lot Of Money One Can Pretty Much Rule The World.

One Develops An Instinct For Letting Silence Do The Heavy Lifting. In The Three, Four, Five Seconds That Passed Without Either Of Us Speaking, The Many Ways The Conversation Could Go Came And Went Like Time-lapse Film Of Flowers Blooming And Dying.