Tuesday, July 21, 2009

you will be my Ferdinand and I your wayward girl


Of course, I can’t go back and read it now. Not yet. I flew through it, and, happy, nay, ecstatic, I immediately decided it had to be too good to be true. Is that what I fear, then? A lack of candor? A misinterpretation? I tend to know . . . but how do you tell, these days, when life is already hanging from tenterhooks?