I dream the scentof my mother's lipstickhas come back to haunt me—like an oil pastelmarkingmy dreary, dramatic heart.

I'm looking at the sea on the wall, andeven though it's a copy of a copy of the Aegean,I wish you would grab me and take me to Greece.

What's this? This mourning is mine forever.

Her grief is constant & irreparable

I take back what I said—come herewith your unplaceable frustration,let me add it to my calendarof knife-like headaches,let me kiss you if I wantfor months at a time.

This wedding is some hell

The virgins are certain there's a circle of helldedicated to that fear you'll never find anyone else.

All my acquaintances are coupled uplike hamsters with advanced degrees.

I am done with you, couples. We arebreaking up.