The Future Lay Before Him, Inevitable But

This Squirrel Is Inadequately Afraid Of Humans! Squirrel, I Am A Threat To You! We Are Enemies! Please Get Off My Bench! Oh, God! Oh, God! Don't Touch Me—oh, God!

To Be Abandoned Like That! Shut Out When You Most Need To Be Loved.

And I Vaguely Remember Her Smiling At Me From The Door Way The Glittering Ambiguity Of A Girls Smile, Which Seems To Promise An Answer To The Question, But Never Gives It. The Question, The One We’ve All Been Asking Since Girls Stopped Being Gross, The Question That Is To Simple To Be Uncomplicated: Does She Like Me Or Does She Like Me?

But You Want To See Shapes; You Want To See Stories, So You Pick Them Out Of The Sky.

There Is No Them. There Are Only Facets Of Us.