I hurl my heart to halt his pace.
How can you be so many women to so many strange people, oh you strange girl?
It never occurred to me to say no.
If I was going to fall, I would hang on to my small comforts, at least, for as long as I possibly could.
I am myself. That is not enough.
The claw of the magnolia, drunk on its own scents, asks nothing of life.