I’ve Had It With All

And The Words We Find Are Always Insufficient, Like Love, Though They Are Often Lovely And All We Have.

When I Stop Becoming, That's When I Worry.

I’ve Had It With All Stingy-hearted Sons Of Bitches. A Heart Is To Be Spent.

I Will Try To Disappoint You Better Than Anyone Ever Has.

Connubial Because With Alarming Accuracy She’d Been Identifying Patterns I Was Unaware Of—this Tic, That Tendency, Like The Way I've Mastered The Language Of Intimacy In Order To Conceal How I Felt— I Knew I Was In Danger Of Being Terribly Understood.