Worry is not thought; complaining is not action.
If we think about the obvious long enough, it dissolves.
In the museums, everything is in quotation marks.
As I criss-cross the city hurrying, I feel always the unchanging cold beneath the pavement.
Confess to the misdeeds you cannot hide.
Your love for me is founded in a sentiment. My love for you is founded in the body. A precarious interchange.