You Would Think Such A Day Would

I Found, And Find, The Scrutiny Of Dr. Lecter Uncomfortable, Intrusive, Like The Humming Of Your Thoughts When They X-ray Your Head.

Intense Fear Comes In Waves; The Body Can't Stand It For Long At A Time.

But The Face On The Pillow, Rosy In The Firelight, Is Certainly That Of Clarice Starling, And She Sleeps Deeply, Sweetly, In The Silence Of The Lambs.

I'll Confess It Is Pleasant To Look At You Asleep. You're Quite Beautiful, Clarice.

I Have No Interest In Understanding Sheep, Only Eating Them.