And I thought, there was no God, there was only what you wanted.

The night crackled ... Everything had turned to static electricity in the heat. I combed my hair to watch the sparks fly from the ends.

You must find a boy your own age. Someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered. Someone whose fingers are a poem.

How can I shed tears for a man I should never have allowed to touch me in any way?

What can she possibly teach you, twenty seven names for tears?

without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.

I wondered where he was now whether I would ever hear him again. Whether someone would love him, someday show him what beauty mean't.