Since We Hate The Same People, We

Sexual Attraction Keeps Throwing Self-interest Off Course.

Conscious Thought Is The Tidying Up At The End.

For Many, Immaturity Is An Ideal, Not A Defect.

When My Beloved Arrives, I Yawn. When My Beloved Departs, I Weep.

Nostalgia Paints A Smile On The Stony Face Of The Past.