It Was The Men I Deceived The

People Come To Paris, To The Capital, To Give Their Lives A Sense Of Belonging, Of An Almost Mythical Participation In Society.

You Alone Became The Outer Surface Of My Life, The Side I Never See, And You Will Be That, The Unknown Part Of Me, Until I Die.

To Love One Child And To Love All Children, Whether Living Or Dead -somewhere These Two Loves Come Together. To Love A No-good But Humble Punk And To Love An Honest Man Who Believes Himself To Be An Honest Man -somewhere These, Too, Come Together.

He Wanted To Pay Her; He Thought Women Ought To Be Paid For Keeping Men From Dying Or Going Out Of Their Minds.

She Says People Ought To Learn To Live Like Them, With The Body Abandoned In A Wilderness, And In The Mind The Memory Of A Single Kiss, A Single Word, A Single Look To Stand For A Whole Love.