I Win, You Lose, Now You Have A Big Bruise

Playing with her, it youths me, back when time was my friend and the complicated things were simple. There is more, like the aliveness that surrounds me in their breathing and in the familiarity of their blinking and in the fingerprint-like patterns of their intonation. But there is so much less, like the choke collars and the yelling and the money making and the matters of opinion. I get bored of my feelings, bored of my fears, bored of my needs, but I will never tire of the heart of a man who is never too busy to kiss a girl goodnight; I need not be that girl. The privilege of observing kindness is enough for me. I see a joy in sacrifice. To have loved someone; once.