I miss you and I want to see you again and I am sitting up every night at 3 am thinking of you with my heart in my throat.
How can I be flying back to London tomorrow? Where did my three months go?
Richard Jackson, from “Ten Things I Know,” Resonance: Poems (The Ashland Poetry Press, 2010)
Each desire is a memory of the future.
Stop watching movies about quirky depressed 20-somethings who mumble their way to self-fulfillment and/or their soulmate.
Drink a Sidecar. Exfoliate. Fill in your eyebrows.