You Are What You Are And That

I'm Still There, Watching Those Possessed Children, As Far Away From The Mystery Now As I Was Then. I've Never Written, Though I Thought I Wrote, Never Loved, Though I Thought I Loved, Never Done Anything But Wait Outside The Closed Door.

What She Said Was Always Strange. It Had Happened Long Ago. It Seemed Insignificant. And Yet It Was Something You Remembered Forever. The Words As Well As The Story. The Voice As Much As The Words.

Before They're Plumbers Or Writers Or Taxi Drivers Or Unemployed Or Journalists, Before Everything Else, Men Are Men. Whether Heterosexual Or Homosexual. The Only Difference Is That Some Of Them Remind You Of It As Soon As You Meet Them, And Others Wait For A Little While.

Banality Is Sometimes Striking.

All That Remains Of That Minute Is Time In All Its Purity, Bone-white Time.