Now I No Longer Believe

Memory Is The Way We Keep Telling Ourselves Our Stories - And Telling Other People A Somewhat Different Version Of Our Stories.

I Felt In Him What Women Feel In Men, Something So Tender, Swollen, Tyrannical, Absurd; I Would Never Take The Consequences Of Interfering With It.

Pots Can Show Malice, The Patterns Of Linoleum Can Leer Up At You, Treachery Is The Other Side Of Dailiness.

You Think That Would Have Changed Things? The Answer Is Of Course, And For A While, And Never.

For We Did Makeup. But We Didn't Forgive Each Other. And We Didn't Take Steps. And It Got To Be Too Late And We Saw That Each Of Us Had Invested Too Much In Being In The Right And We Walked Away And It Was A Relief.