“We blasted holes in the night until she bled sunshine”
“Each time it was like a stray bit of glass pressed into the softness of her heart, grinding, grinding, oh so silently until she no longer noticed when she bled.”
“Was it two or one dead face? Would you notice that at last? We are together and alone, until the firm and angry blast.”
“Who knew that when you cut a slit in the belly of the night sky, it bled color?”
“This hospital, like every other, is a hole in the universe through which holiness issues in blasts. It blows both ways, in and out of time.”
“A day without sunshine is like, you know, night.”