Nothing Holds Love Together Like Shared Vice

Words Betrayed Her: Beautiful Butterflies In Her Mind; Dead Moths When She Opened Her Mouth For Their Release Into The World.

The Rain's Been Racing Earthwards As If With Some Religious Or Political Fanaticism. The Clouds Have The Look Of Dark Internal Bleeding. Surely You Lot Look Up From Cosmo While This Sort Of Thing's Going On? Surely You Take A Playstation Break?

The First Horror Is There's Horror. The Second Is You Accommodate It.

One Develops An Instinct For Letting Silence Do The Heavy Lifting. In The Three, Four, Five Seconds That Passed Without Either Of Us Speaking, The Many Ways The Conversation Could Go Came And Went Like Time-lapse Film Of Flowers Blooming And Dying.

I'm Too Conceited For Therapy.