Sometimes, I stall out.
Try to take one step.
And I know it's not for me.
Choice that doesn't really exist.
You're left with, (1) how much do you believe?
(2) How afraid are you to believe?
(3) What if the door only opens with belief?
I love the soil beneath my feet, the floor.
Won't leave it.
Hard to believe anything in the absence of people.
But it's time.
The way an orchid can look like a woman's gloved hand just off the next balcony at the opera.
Or, the engine ran like it was sucking mud, so Louie threw a wrench and broke the dyno room window—the falling glass sounded like sleighbells.
Dana kissed me in full sucker punch as I opened the door to the Chinese restaurant, and it was the first time I thought I might make it through this world.
As if a man can cry out in delirium that he wants his life back, and no one knows what he's talking about.
Men treated nature as if it had a woman's voice.
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