and July:
Even the most foolish and unskillful minet is still better than, say, smell a beautiful rose... or see an unimaginable sunset. Listen to a happy child’s laughter.
I’m sure that even the best, the most penetrating poem will nevertheless be compared to a drunk, hot, explosive orgasm.
and July:
I would argue.
and Anya:
So I would argue.
and Anya:
It’s because we’re with you.)