I was praying the only way I knew how. I was trying to build a boat, to take me through the waves of grief on your street, right up to your door.

I could be sharp-tongued, curious, fucked-up—what had never felt available to me. For the first time, French was no longer borrowed, but mine.

People ran to keep their bodies tame, searched for every secret before the leaving.

$VII: Aubade | Uncomposed: "Refractions of Light"$

I have wanted to leave home since I was thirteen years old, and the desire sings in my ribs even more strongly now.

VI: Interlude | Uncomposed: "Lexicon"

G for Georgia, O for Oscar, T for Thomas, again O for Oscar. My mother spells out her maiden name on the phone.

When she was younger, my grandmother danced cour for a local ballet company.

The first time I ever watched a movie in black & white was on invitation from Isabella.