When he moves, a streetlight stabs him, and the words flow out like blood.
Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.
Somewhere in all the snow, she could see her broken heart, in two pieces.
I realize that nothing belongs to her anymore and she belongs to everything.
She let herself love me for three minutes. Can three minutes last forever? I ask myself, but already know the answer. Probably not, I reply. But maybe they last long enough.
I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.