I love you. You are closest to my heart, closer than any other human being. You are my extension. You are my prayer. You are my belief in God. For better or worse you inherit me.

Suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build.

Let the light be called Day so that men may grow corn or take busses.

I think of myself as writing for one person, that one perfect reader who understands and loves.

sorrow is easier than guilt.

I am stuffing your mouth with your promises and watching you vomit them out upon my face.

The man inside of woman ties a knot so that they will never again be separate.