I have this profound love brilliantly shining, burning a hole through my ribs, and it’s going to kill me, because I just lug it around deadweight, and anyone who sees it sees it like clay pouring out of a stop-motion film, into the living room, onto the floor, but they are transfixed by the tightly grasped brick walls they shout meekly into, fingers trembling. It’s shadows out of the corner of your eye that wish to breathe your name, the one you hate. I know because the music is coursing through my bloodstream, and I’ll never forget the way it made me feel when you said you wish you could have been with me too.