You Loved Me As Hard As You

Love Requires Context.

All The World Is Made Of Music. We Are All Strings On A Lyre. We Resonate. We Sing Together.

That Was One Thing You Found Out When You Were Stoned, Or Wasted, Or Feverish: That The World Was Always Turning And That Only A Healthy Mind Could Block Out The Sickening Whirl Of It.

What A Blessed If Painful Thing, This Business Of Being Alive.

She Breathed Deeply Of The Scent Of Decaying Fiction, Disintegrating History, And Forgotten Verse, And She Observed For The First Time That A Room Full Of Books Smelled Like Dessert: A Sweet Snack Made Of Figs, Vanilla, Glue, And Cleverness.