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Yesterday I visited Tereza again, and it is amazing how close you can feel to old friends. She lay down with me in mud (she was shivering cold). She spoke and said, “Lover, you are looking so old.”
She told me that friendship, at its best, is just death, and love, well, that is shorthand for ‘cardiac arrest’. I am all dead in my chest and my right arm hoping that you do not come to any harm.

God was angry.
God hid from me.
I transgressed.
I transgressed.
What a mess.
What a mess.

So now I sow salt in the soil of mine enemies. Yes, did not God give me over to mine iniquity? I kissed her mouth in some Pavlovian mishap, but she will explode when she hits the road just like a dying cigarette.
But I will be fine. I will be fine. I will be fine with one fist on the prayer book and one on the red wine.

God was angry.
God hid from me.
I transgressed.
I transgressed.
What a mess.
What a mess.

Today left me feeling disappointed and blessed. I received a letter in the mail, it had no return address. It smelled like an offer, but it read like much less. I think that forgetting all of this would be for the best.