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He shot a spear into a boom timber and pulled the boat to it.

Hello, women rising up against toxic men. I salute you. And I apologize.

Some people are so beautiful, they belong everywhere they go.

Children were driven by deep yearnings that should be satisfied.

You’ve trained me well in the art of intimate distance. It’s not been easy.

The world is a riddle of shape and texture, from sight to smell to sound.

I saw her drunk, with bleary eyes, tousled hair, and a hideous grin.

I want to step out into sun to scintillate for waves to come and spray.

He tries to appear slight in his leather jacket and turbulent jeans.

“Well, it’s a dark world, Suzanne. She’s old enough to know that.”

That piece of flesh you’re with is a high school student, a minor.

The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen has become the saddest.

You mixed a drink of sugar, rum, brackish debris. The ice was finite.

The specimen, a man oblivious, is beautiful to behold, perfect, enough.

It dawned on me my passion was not for her but for the making-up.

I walk over to her for what seems to be an eternity. “May I have this dance?”

What is greater: the distance between these bodies, or their need?

Here lies the girl difficult to discern. Here lies the girl misanthropic.

The palm’s outline shimmied in the sunlight against the aqua curtain.

He could not stop marveling at the velvet quality of
her skin.

I saw the man for the first time in Budapest on the Széchenyi Bridge.

This kind of heart-wrenching love was different from all the others.

Those are the horses you win on, the ones that want to kill you.

Didn’t you think I’d come after you? Don’t you want to be with me?

I’m not the girl for anyone. I can’t just go be a wife.

Eliza Frye

After seventeen years we’re parting ways. Breakups hurt, even this one.

It was more fun to get drunk with a friend than with a lover.

We were aiming for a complete transformation of society.

I could feel the floor’s slight pitch. We were in for a long, long voyage.