He Has No Idea How Beautiful The

In Small Letters, Someone Has Written Never Forget On One Of The Slats. I Know It's Supposed To Be A Pledge, But It Feels Like A Curse. Don't We Have To Forget Some Of It? Don't We Have To Forget This Feeling? If We Don't, How Will We Live?

But Whether Or Not You Are Here, You Are Here—because These Words Are For You, And They Wouldn't Exist If You Weren't Here In Some Way.

I Try To Convince Myself That It's The Alcohol Talking. But Alcohol Can't Talk. It Just Sits There. It Can't Even Get Itself Out Of The Bottle.

I'll See You Later, He Says, And As He Does, He Runs His Finger Briefly Over My Wrist. It Passes Over Me Like Air, And Makes Me Shiver Like A Kiss.

Sorry To Be So Cynical, But This Is New York