What a strange world this is when you can have as much sex as you like but love is taboo.

Lie beside me. Let me see the division of your pores. Let me see the web of scars made by your family's claws and you their furniture. Let me see the wounds that they denied. The battle ground of family life that has been your body. Let me see the bruised red lines that signal their encampment. Let me see the routed place where they are gone. Lie beside me and let the seeing be healing. No need to hide. No need for either darkness or light. Let me see you as you are.

That walls should fall is the consequence of blowing your own trumpet.

I like to think the price I paid by being open about my private life helped.

And you? Now that I have discovered you? Beautiful, dangerous, unleashed. Still I try to hold you, knowing that your body is faced with knives.

I choose this story above all others because it's a story I'm struggling to end.

There's no such thing as autobiography, there's only art and lies