I Am Kind Of A Curmudgeonly Person,

It Is Easier To Tell A Story Of How People Wound One Another Than Of What Binds Them Together.

Eros Is An Issue Of Boundaries. He Exists Because Certain Boundaries Do. In The Interval Between Reach And Grasp, Between Glance And Counterglance, Between ‘i Love You’ And ‘i Love You Too,’ The Absent Presence Of Desire Comes Alive. But The Boundaries Of Time And Glance And I Love You Are Only Aftershocks Of The Main, Inevitable Boundary That Creates Eros: The Boundary Of Flesh And Self Between You And Me. And It Is Only, Suddenly, At The Moment When I Would Dissolve That Boundary, I Realize I Never Can.

Words Bounce. Words, If You Let Them, Will Do What They Want To Do And What They Have To Do.

We Participate In The Creation Of The World By Decreating Ourselves.

Caught Between The Tongue And The Taste.