Nostalgia In Reverse, The Longing For Yet

An Active And Creative Reader Is A Re-reader.

He Broke My Heart. You Merely Broke My Life.

Coordinating There Events And Objects With Remote Events And Vanished Objects. Making Ornaments Of Accidents And Possibilities.

There Is Nothing More Atrociously Cruel Than An Adored Child.

But That Mimosa Grove-the Haze Of Stars, The Tingle, The Flame, The Honey-dew, And The Ache Remained With Me, And That Little Girl With Her Seaside Limbs And Ardent Tongue Haunted Me Ever Since-until At Last, Twenty-four Years Later, I Broke Her Spell By Incarnating Her In Another.