Blot Out The Moon, Pull

Yes, I Am Sad, Sad As A Circus-lioness, Sad As An Eagle Without Wings, Sad As A Violin With Only One String And That One Broken, Sad As A Woman Who Is Growing Old. Sad, Sad, Sad.

It Was Like Letting Go And Falling Back Into Water And Seeing Yourself Grinning Up Through The Water, Your Face Like A Mask, And Seeing The Bubbles Coming Up As If You Were Trying To Speak From Under The Water. And How Do You Know What It's Like To Try To Speak From Under Water When You're Drowned?

I Watched Her Die Many Times. In My Way, Not In Hers. In Sunlight, In Shadow, By Moonlight, By Candlelight. In The Long Afternoons When The House Was Empty. Only The Sun Was There To Keep Us Company. We Shut Him Out. And Why Not? Very Soon She Was As Eager For What's Called Loving As I Was - More Lost And Drowned Afterwards.

Something In Her Brain That Still Remained Calm Told Her That She Was Doing A Very Foolish Thing Indeed.

Next Week, Or Next Month, Or Next Year I Will Kill Myself. But I Might As Well Last Out My Month's Rent, Which Has Been Paid Up.