Krasivaya. It Means Beautiful, But

I Wasn't Certain Of Anything Anymore, Except That New Orleans Was A Faithless Friend And I Wanted To Leave Her.

You Like Me, Josie Moraine. You Just Don't Know It Yet.

My Breathing Slowed. I Shaded Her Thick Chestnut Hair Resting In A Smooth Curve Against Her Face, A Large Bruise Blazing Across Her Cheek. I Paused, Looking Over My Shoulder To Make Certain I Was Alone. I Drew Her Eye Makeup, Smudged By Tears. In Her Watery Eyes I Drew The Reflection Of The Commander, Standing In Front Of Her, His Fist Clenched. I Continued To Sketch, Exhaled, And Shook Out My Hands.

I Stared At The Enormous Homes, The Landscaping And Flower Beds Immaculate. It Was As If Dollar Bills, Instead Of Leaves, Hung From The Trees.

We'd Been Trying To Touch The Sky From The Bottom Of The Ocean. I Realized That If We Boosted One Another, Maybe We'd Get A Little Closer.