“A lovely moon tonight” she said.
“It’s the same moon it was last night” he said.
“It looks slightly different somehow” she said.
“It’s exactly the same ****** moon” he said.
“I think it’s fuller tonight” she said.
“Of course it’s fuller tonight” he said.
“It’s brighter and gayer tonight” she said.
“The moon is no gayer tonight” he said.
“It seemed so sad last night” she said.
“How could the moon seem sad?” he said.
      “The moon dies every night” she said.
      “And ferries the souls of the recently dead,
        Into the darkness just out of reach
        It circles the globe unseen and *****  
        It pries open the sky at evening’s breach
The moon has been reborn” she said.
He gave her a look of scorn and dread
“What’s gotten into your head?”
“A lovely moon tonight” she said.

You never know a person,
Until you stay up until 4am with them.

My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as mad men’s are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed.
    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword, nor war’s quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
‘Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
    So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
    You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

They said his steps sounded like the ticking of a time bomb.

Her knees were in the dirt.
Blood, sweat and tears filled the earth,
and the sky cracked open.
Come closer, it said.
She shook her head, remembering the slow steps of her father’s father. The yellow fingers that toyed with the fabric between buttons,
The bruises that she wore on her abdomen.
The fear.
The pain.
It’s all the same,
it’s all the same.