Write The Book You Want To Read,

Our Friendship Is Made Up Of These Brief Frenzied Exchanges, But The Quality Of Our Conversation, For All Its Feverish Outpouring, Is Genuine.

Nothing She Did Or Said Was Quite What She Meant But Still Her Life Could Be Called A Monument Shaped In A Slant Of Available Light And Set To The Movement Of Possible Music

Anyone's Childhood Can Be An Act Of Disablement If Rehearsed And Replayed And Squinted At In A Certain Light. . .

The Silence Is Perfect, And Yet A Torment.

Write The Book You Want To Read, The One You Cannot Find.