And I, Love, Am A Pathological Liar.

After All, We Are Nothing More Or Less Than We Choose To Reveal.

Although, I Admit, I Desire, Occasionally, Some Backtalk From The Mute Sky, I Can't Honestly Complain: A Certain Minor Light May Still Lean Incandescent Out Of Kitchen Table Or Chair As If A Celestial Burning Took Possession Of The Most Obtuse Objects Now And Then --

I Could Feel The Winter Shaking My Bones And Banging My Teeth Together.

I Began To See Why Woman-haters Could Make Such Fools Of Women. Woman-haters Were Like Gods: Invulnerable And Chock Full Of Power. They Descended, And Then They Disappeared. You Could Never Catch One.

If You Expect Nothing From Anybody, You’re Never Disappointed.