Fool's Gold

“He turns to her delicate, lovely ear, offering unbelievable, desecrated gospel.”

“Something is dead, or someone.”

“This Friday we can get tipsy; I’ll cry, you’ll tell me I’m beautiful, read to me…”

“Flowery language will not, cannot, hide the gnarled rot.”

“By the web he thought of no longer—by unrequited wings that bore him to the defining moment”

“I am here, this is Now,”

“Adam didn’t know what to offer of himself to counterbalance a terror unknowable to him.”

“Silence settles between the scarabeous man and the gilt woman.”