Photo © Michel Delsol

It Was Only When We Were In That Bed, High Above The World - Then I Thought The Birds Could Have Been Circling Around Our Bodies Circled Around Each Other - That We Made Our World Totally Separated From Everything Else. It Was The Only Way We Could Be Together.

I'm What Happens After Death, Which Is Writing.

Everytime You Read, You Are Walking Among The Dead, And, If You Are Listening, You Just Might Hear Prophecies.

First Of All, Writing At Best - Certainly Fiction Writing - More And More I Think Is Magic.

There Are Times When The Law Jeopardizes Those Who Obey It.