“Today I found a scrap of paper where you’d scrawled your name. I hate the world for its traces of you. Don’t write me again.” — Charles Jensen, excerpt from Debts
"As the Bruises Fade, the Lightning Aches"
As the bruises fade, the lightning aches. Last week, making love, you bit me. Now the blue and dark have gone and yellow bruises grow toward pale daffodils, then paler to become until my body is all my own and what that ever got me. -Richard Brautigan
Michael Caine and Natalie Wood, 1966.