How can the word love, the word life, even fit in the mouth?

The first thing I notice is the sky, so full of blue and the kind of brilliant white clouds that make you ecstatic to have eyes. Nothing can go wrong under this sky.

Someone might as well roll up the whole sky, pack it away for good.

grief is a house that disappears each time someone knocks at the door or rings the bell a house that blows into the air at the slightest gust that buries itself deep in the ground while everyone is sleeping

Dreams change, yes, that makes sense, but I didn't know dreams could hide inside a person.

Remember how it was when we kissed? Armfuls and armfuls of light thrown right at us. A rope dropping down from the sky. How can the word love and the word life even fit in the mouth?

At least, the sun had the decency to stay the hell away from us.