She Liked To Imagine That When She

Stones And Bones; Snow And Frost; Seeds And Beans And Polliwogs. Paths And Twigs, Assorted Kisses, We All Know Who Daddy Misses! His Two Little Frogs Of Girls, That’s Who. They Know Where They Are, Do You, Do You?

How To Commit The Perfect Murder" Was An Old Game In Heaven. I Always Chose The Icicle: The Weapon Melts Away.

People Grow Up By Living.

Once Released From Life, Having Lost It In Such Violence, I Couldn’t Calculate My Steps. I Didn’t Have Time For Contemplation. In Violence It Is The Getting Out That You Concentrate On. When You Begin To Go Over The Edge, Life Receding From You As A Boat Recedes Inevitably From The Shore, You Hold On To Death Tightly, Like A Rope That Will Transport You, And You Swing Out On It, Hoping To Land Away From Where You Are.

At Fourteen, My Sister Sailed Away From Me Into A Place I’d Never Been. In The Walls Of My Sex There Was Horror And Blood, In The Walls Of Hers There Were Windows.