“I’ve been rereading your story. I think it’s about me in a way that might not be flattering, but that’s okay. We dream and dream of being seen as we really are and then finally someone looks at us and sees us truly and we fail to measure up. Anyway: story received, story included. You looked at me long enough to see something mysterioso under all the gruff and bluster. Thanks. Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.”

“I wanted to hurt youbut the victory is that I could not stomach it. We haveswallowed him up, they said. It’s beautiful. It really is.I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.You said Tell me about your books, your visions madeof flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This isthe Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take youthere. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugarcube… We were in the gold room where everyonefinally gets what they want, so I said What do youwant, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I amleaving you clues. I am singing now while Romeburns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack,my silent night, just mash your lips against me.We are all going forward. None of us are going back.”

“I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.You said Tell me about your books, your visions madeof flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This isthe Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take youthere. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugarcube…We were in the gold room where everyonefinally gets what they want, so I said What do youwant, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I amleaving you clues. I am singing now while Romeburns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack,my silent night, just mash your lips against me.We are all going forward. None of us are going back.”

“There’s smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars. It’s a Western,Henry. It’s a downright shoot-em-up. We’ve made a graveyardout of the bone white afternoon.It’s another wrong-man-dies scenario, and we keep doing it Henry,keep saying until we get it right … but we always win and we never quit.See, we’ve won again,here we are at the place where I get to beg for it, where I get to say Please,for just one night, will you lie down next to me, we can leave our clothes on,we can stay all buttoned up …But we both know how it goes—I say I want you inside me and you holdmy head underwater. I say I want you inside me and you split me openwith a knife.”

“Knot the tie and go to work, unknot the tie and go to sleep. I sleep. I dream. I wake. I sing. I get out the hammer and start knocking in the wooden pegs that affix the meaning to the landscape, the inner life to the body, the names to the things. I float too much to wander, like you, in the real world. I envy it but that’s the dealio—you’re a train and I’m a trainstation and when I try to guess your trajectory I end up telling my own story.”

“The narrator blames the birds. And you want to blame the birds as well. I blamed the birds for a long time. But in this story everyone is hungry, even the birds. And at this point in the story so many things have gone wrong, so many bad decisions made, that it’s a wonder anyone would want to continue reading.”

“Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lakeand dress them in warm clothes again.”