Wonderful ... I Was Up All Night

He Pressed His Face Into The Fabric And Breathed In Slowly Through His Mouth And Nose, Hoping For The Faintest Smoke And Mountain Sage And Salty Sweet Stink Of Jack But There Was No Real Scent, Only The Memory Of It, The Imagined Power Of Brokeback Mountain Of Which Nothing Was Left But What He Held In His Hands.

And I Think That's Important, To Know How The Water's Gone Over The Dam Before You Start To Describe It. It Helps To Have Been Over The Dam Yourself.

Wonderful ... I Was Up All Night Reading It, Laughing And Crying Out In Horror.

What We Fear We Often Rage Against.

I Would Rather Be Dead Than Not Read