Editing Is Just Ongoing. I

I Had Never Feared Insomnia Before--like Prison, Wouldn't It Just Give You More Time To Read?

But I Believed In Starting Over. There Was Finally, I Knew, Only Rupture And Hurt And Falling Short Between All Persons, But, Shirley, The Best Revenge Was To Turn Your Life Into A Small Gathering Of Miracles. If I Could Not Be Anchored And Profound, I Would Try, At Least, To Be Kind.

This Is What Happened In Love. One Of You Cried A Lot And Then Both Of You Grew Sarcastic.

Love Is Art, Not Truth. It’s Like Painting Scenery.

There Seemed Nothing So True As A Yellow Tree.