atatteredquiltoffallenstars

My wish had no words, but it smelled of fennel.

in their silences there had been a form of love.

It was how he would spell his name; he would use those letters the doctor had imagined for him and call them his own.

It was as though the world he saw cracked, revealing memories he had forgotten.

All the sounds of the waking city seemed to rise toward the sky, dissipating as the rain fell.

Moonlight kept them company, the way it leaked through the timber walls and shifted across them as the hours passed.

She prayed and her prayer was monstrous because in it there was no margin left for damnation or forgiveness, for praise or for blame - those who cannot conceive a bargain cannot be saved or damned.

Shows typically include spanking, flagellation, shaving, branding, laceration, bondage, humiliation, wrestling - you know, the usual: amateur, everyday practitioners strutting for everyone else’s gratification, not unlike an academic conference

Respectable gays like to think that they owe nothing to the sexual subculture they think of as sleazy. But their success, their way of living, their political rights, and their very identities would never have been possible but for the existence of the public sexual culture they now despise. Extinguish it, and almost all out gay or queer culture will wither on the vine.

Queer and other insurgents have long striven, often dangerously or scandalously, to cultivate what good folks used to call criminal intimacies

to construct the architecture of queer space in a homophobic environment

You people who not only love books but suffer from a mania for them

His will is curious more than ruthless.

perhaps some small anarchy he glimpsed in them

It was the hour with that tense new light that Marsh Felon now began searching for

You return to that earlier time armed with the present

"Wow," I say. "Please don't say 'Wow.' You were only in America a few months." "It's an expressive word."