Today the mockingbird does not sound very happy. It sounds if it is coming apart. As of the very heart of itself-its song-is breaking into pieces and flying off in a hundred directions.

“As we meandered, she said my name three times:"Stargirl?""Yes?""That was better…”

“It seemed we were no longer separate, but were one.”

“Cross the creek on the stepping stones of your failures. ”

“In our minds we tried to pin her to a corkboard like a butterfly, but the pin m…”