Friday, June 4, 2010

The Way Foolish Lovers Die

Naive is ice because it talks delicately, like it doesn't know how the game is played. But we like it better that way. We pretend, too. In that way it does a good thing for us. We may walk slower, we cannot feel when we touch the rough edges. We don't whisper in fear of shattering, but we may shout, to obliterate the thing we love.