We just want to walk. Our legs need to move to keep our minds from collapsing.

And I find myself saying, “It wasn’t really about her.” And finding it’s true. What do you mean?” Norah asks. It was about the feeling, you know? She caused it in me, but it wasn’t about her. It was about my reaction, what I wanted to feel and then convinced myself that I felt, because I wanted it that bad. That illusion. It was love because I created it as love.

His books are kept on freestanding shelves hung at different angles on a sea-green wall. They defy gravity, as good books should.

You made me lose my appetite, Boomer." "My mom tells me that all the time. Your family must be just like mine!

You never let things go unanswered for too long. Emails. Phone calls. Questions. As if you know the waiting is the hardest part for me.

I feel such a tenderness for these vulnerable nighttime conversations, the way words take a different shape in the air when there's no light in the room.

I'm swimming in your cadences that you permeate my very language.