I Was Tired Of Men. Hanging In

The Pearls Weren't Really White, They Were A Warm Oyster Beige, With Little Knots In Between So If They Broke, You Only Lost One. I Wished My Life Could Be Like That, Knotted Up So That Even If Something Broke, The Whole Thing Wouldn't Come Apart.

We Read So That We Can Be Moved By A New Way Of Looking At Things.

When I Start Writing, My Unconscious, My Conflicts, My Thoughts All Start To Come Up. So For Me, Writing Is An Exploration. I Never Know How My Stories Will End.

The Nearest I'd Come To Feeling Anything Like God Was The Plan Blue Cloudless Sky And A Certain Silence, But How Do You Pray To That?

Love Is A Check, That Can Be Forged, That Can Be Cashed. Love Is A Payment That Comes Due.