If I could blame it on all the mothers and fathers of the world, they of the lessons, the pellets of power, they of the love surrounding you like batter ... Blame it on God perhaps? He of the first opening that pushed us all into our first mistakes? No, I'll blame it on Man For Man is God and man is eating the earth up like a candy bar and not one of them can be left alone with the ocean for it is known he will gulp it all down. The stars (possibly) are safe. At least for the moment. The stars are pears that no one can reach, even for a wedding. Perhaps for a death.

I rot on the wall, my own Dorian Gray.

Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there; something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind

The little girl skipped by under the wrinkled oak leaves and held fast to a replica of herself.

Let there be seasons so that our tongues will be rich in asparagus and limes.

Thief!- how did you crawl into, crawl down alone into the death I wanted so badly and for so long.

The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not.