I wanted to wake up to watch the sun rise today over the lake, to infuse the day with meaning--which amounts to a cliche, I know, I know. But I am in the moment, letting sensations chase each other up and down my spine, planning only to let impulse hew ( Read more... )

A white blindness has settled on the city. (Who will be our guide from here?)

Touch me. Soft eyes. Soft soft soft hand. I am lonely here. O, touch me soon, now. What is that word known to all men? I am quiet here alone. Sad too. Touch, touch me.

--James Joyce