A crowd of drunken lovers. Newspaper hats, new couples falling from couches and love- seats—the pleasure remembered, never the regret.

Maybe I’m still the mermaid. Maybe the ocean is your hand.

If we never have enough love, we have more than most.

To suffer together is to suffer with beauty,

We must live with our hearts in our hands - like Mary.We must hold the blood-red heart and no be disappointedwhen others look away.