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Loveexpand_moreKids interfere with perfection. Wives interfere. Marriage interferes.
It was up airly and down late with him, and the loom never standin’ still.
If I also could be lifted into the sky, I’d wish to be blown apart.
The sense of power that flights of temper evoke will betray you.
She could not have known how uncannily she resembled me.
This is not deception. This is a subtle way of conditioning.
Sometimes a you is a lover, but he is not my lover. He is looking at me.
“I mean it, Martín. I won’t marry a man with a bald lip, like a boy.”
Ron Carlson
For two days I’ve been weeping over a nineteenth-century novel.
Derek was holding a gun. The barrel was pointed at his own temple.
I bring out the emergency in people and I don’t know why.
I managed to talk sensible Alice into a little pink outfit and high heels.
Mafia didn’t like me, except for the tickling game. It went like this.
It had been four weeks and five days since she confronted him.
On her sixty-second birthday Marge Olson got a call, not a gift.
I saw it on her face that day, a look like her heart would drift into the sky.
I know quite well that I’m still a beginner and have a long way to go.
I lost myself in their minds: for the moment I actually became them.
She must know she was a mistake, what they call now a surprise.
What would make a sane person want to watch such blood sport?
I wait for the one thing that will change my life to arrive in the mail.
He said, You have no brother. I didn’t know what he meant. I do now.
The pain lithified to numbness, and she recalled the time of his courtship.
We talked. She was the same inside as I am, from the same kind.
I hear myself giving advice in my father’s voice: Take the emotion out.
When he kisses me, my heart flutters in my chest like swarming bees.
What humanity needed was that gravity-defying miracle, the bird.
The past, you hear it, the small hours, sucked down the undertow.
After nearly a year of dating, I never stopped thinking of that other boy.