Pardon me, I hope to kill you, so ferociously, you return as a ghost, And we always touch on the cusp of unfinished business.

"what if we got caught? what if we died?"

"and everytime i open my mouth, it only seems to send postcards devoid of destination."

"then one night did not go as he planned, when he stumbled upon an empty land."

"there is no guest list written out in advance for a funeral."

"if i'm not the chaos, i don't want it. not even with you."

"it is a thing of fiction to think that there won’t be anyone after you."

"i played with matches in the house. i stole the money from the safe."

"i found a little white moth sitting on my window sill. it was slow as a sloth and sat seriously still."

"one day we will be nothing more than loose change, clinking at the back of someone’s memory."

"i ought to remind myself to stop searching for sunshine and morning breeze in places where our love went to die."

"place me back in the ground, cover me in soil. i want to be planted."

"my milk cloth dangling alongside the pantry door, longing for you to take me and hold on."

"the years have cataracted my eyes and images have hardened. nothing ever flows to rearrange itself into metaphors."

"lived a lie, with grace."

"the morning that i had found the summer lilac, someone had found her dead in her sleep."

"and I know, deep in my heart, he’s standing near - hands folded, head low, alert at his door."

"trees can live hundreds of years, even after a branch has fallen."

"you cannot help but leave behind a mark a scar a kiss goodbye."

“we could have waited till it died but we fed it and we watered it, and we watched it grow.”