“Saw you walking barefoottaking a long lookat the new moon's eyelidlater spreadsleep-fallen, naked in your dark hairasleep but not obliviousof the unslept unsleepingelsewhereTonight I thinkno poetrywill serveSyntax of rendition:verb pilots the planeadverb modifies actionverb force-feeds nounsubmerges the subjectnoun is chokingverb disgraced goes on doingnow diagram the sentence”

“You are the prettiest pilot I ever saw.''Hey.' Grayson walked forward. 'Do you see me standing here in a tux? Get in line.”

“So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my loneliness, in the blue-silver of the cold moon, shining brilliantly on the drifts of fresh-fallen snow, with the myriad sparkles. I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down.”

“Oh Moon, sweet, sweet Moon, I want to be naked on you. I want to be like a flower growing on your surface, unique and mysterious, at home in the wonder of you, as if my naked body would be something growing out of your soil, something precious, a lovely gift on your landscape.”

“Would you dare to walk with the beast on the dark side of the moon?”

“I really do not know that anything has ever been more exciting than diagramming sentences.”