It is best to meet in a cul-de-sac, A palace of velvet With windows of mirrors. There one is safe, There are no family photographs, No rings through the nose, no cries.

Perhaps, perhaps this would be the one to pull me out of my plunge.

It was my first big chance, but here I was, sitting back and letting it run through my fingers like so much water.

I tried to speak in a cool, calm way, but the zombie rose up in my throat and choked me off.

I don't know how long I kept at it... I felt reasonably safe, streched out on the floor, and lay quite still. It didn't seem to be summer any more

No day is safe from news of you.

Love is the bone and sinew of my curse.