The best liars always tell the truth.
Massages make me tense.
Sorry I can’t stay with you while you go through all of this.
I just want a man who will wear dresses and not argue with me.
Don’t send strange men to my apartment with power tools.
He is your first love, and I intend to be your last.
He’s trying to believe the world.
Multilingual poetics of unkown languages.
Violence is not my métier.
I imagine an amateur is no asset.
I look out the window and all I see are other roofs.
I’m trying to see the stoplight, but there is a building in the way.
Call me when it’s over.
If you cannot be honest with yourself, how can you get the truth out of anyone else?”
Subterranean Blue Poetry