My flesh looked like it wasn't trying. It looked like it hated being part of me.
Love is a fog that burns with the first daylight of reality.
dogs and angels are not very far apart
I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time.
Love breaks my bones and I laugh
The Artist," an ancient sage had once said, "is always sitting on the doorsteps of the rich.