It's easy to convince men to love you, Puck. All you have to do is be a mountain they have to climb or a poem they don't understand.

Do you know how to wrap a leg?" "I was born wrapping legs," I say stiffly, because I'm insulted. "Must've been a challenging delivery," Sean notes.

Reality's what other people dream for you.

I feel a strange, fierce squeeze in my heart when I see him, like pride, although there's nothing about Sean that I can take credit for.

He was struck by the details of the moment. This was something he needed to remember, when he dreamt. This feeling right here: heart thudding, pollen sticky on his fingertips, July pricking sweat at his breastbone, the smell of gasoline and someone else's charcoal grill.

She couldn't make it untrue.

We dance, we dance. You hold the thread of my soul. You spin, you spin. And you unravel the part from the whole. We laugh, we laugh. I'm so far from where I began. I fall, I fall. And I forget that I am.-from Golden Tongue:The Poems of Steven Slaughter