Tell me how I’ve come to be like this, my love, writing tortured prose, expecting resurrection just like that. I am not entitled to...

To have created a thing of such exultant physical beauty as the body of a woman, God is truly sculptor; but also we are lured into things...

from all these places I depart, have gone, left to more places to leave bereft of my presence. how shall I linger? scratches, scribbles...

Love me of your own volition, moon girl. I have set you upon the helm of stars to wither and bloom indefinitely, hovering over the waves...