We Have No Home, She

Women Always Put Men First. That's How Everything Got So Screwed Up.

Do You Ever Want To Go Home?' I Asked Paul. He Brushed An Ash From My Face. 'it's The Century Of The Displaced Person,' He Said. 'you Can Never Go Home.

I Felt Beautiful But Also Interrupted. I Wasn't Used To Being So Complicated.

This Was The Wonderful Thing About Strangers. They Were Big Blank Pieces Of Paper, You Could Draw Watever You Like On Their Impresionable Surfaces

The Phoenix Must Burn To Emerge.