The other side of temptation,
the morning after
tastes like regret but feels
like satiation.
My future,
the wounds I can't forget
will have to bleed
again.
Just for now,
what abounds are the eyes,
ten thousand voices coming
from these faces, punctuated
(finally, decisively)
by affectionate applause.
"This journal is not a mere literary diversion. The further I progress, reducing to order what my past life suggests, and the more I persist in the rigor of composition--of the chapters, of the sentences, of the book itself--the more do I feel myself hardening in my will to utilize, for virtuous ends, my former hardships. I feel their power." --Jean Genet
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