A Black-sharded Lady Keeps Me In A

It Is Best To Meet In A Cul-de-sac, A Palace Of Velvet With Windows Of Mirrors. There One Is Safe, There Are No Family Photographs, No Rings Through The Nose, No Cries.

I'm Happier Writing About Doctors Than I Would Have Been Being One.

I Lean To You, Numb As A Fossil. Tell Me I'm Here.

Yes, There Is Joy, Fulfillment And Companionship But The Loneliness Of The Soul In Its Appalling Self-consciousness Is Horrible And Overpowering.

I Love My Rejection Slips. They Show Me I Try.