It Was The First Time I'd Ever

You Can Go Other Places, All Right - You Can Live On The Other Side Of The World, But You Can't Ever Leave Home

The Redness Had Seeped From The Day And Night Was Arranging Herself Around Us. Cooling Things Down, Staining And Dyeing The Evening Purple And Blue Black.

In The Photograph By My Bed My Mother Is Perpetually Smiling On Me. I Guess I Have Forgiven Us Both, Although Sometimes In The Night My Dreams Will Take Me Back To The Sadness, And I Have To Wake Up And Forgive Us Again.

I Could Even Feel How Perishable All My Moments Really Were, How All My Life They Had Come To Me Begging To Be Lived, To Be Cherished Even.

Soul. The Word Rebounded To Me, And I Wondered, As I Often Had, What It Was Exactly. People Talked About It All The Time, But Did Anybody Actually Know? Sometimes I'd Pictured It Like A Pilot Light Burning Inside A Person--a Drop Of Fire From The Invisible Inferno People Called God. Or A Squashy Substance, Like A Piece Of Clay Or Dental Mold, Which Collected The Sum Of A Person's Experiences--a Million Indentations Of Happiness, Desperation, Fear, All The Small Piercings Of Beauty We've Ever Known.