Milo: …women so beautiful they don’t seem like they exist.

Father Rogers: It only seems that way because you’re young. (cigarette) Or actually—you’ll stop caring eventually. Time has a way of levelling it all out.

(speaking on Naya)

Milo: It’s the voice that goes before the laugh. I’m thinking of getting myself hypnotized because she’s still there completely if I have a dream or something. It’s not my fault, the impression, you know, the somatic thing…starts to fade. It’s a defense mechanism. It’s time…

Rogers: Leveling it all out, taking care of it all…

Milo: I don’t want that—like this. (beat)

茶壶上几抹青烟

的间隙

白雪皑皑

送走了两三故人

With fond sentiment

I recall with selective detail

One dimly lit

Night, outside some bottle store

When for the first time I

Felt something different because you

There have been plenty of times when I had to fight for my life.

Sometimes it was for my “health and safety”,

sometimes for happiness.

I fought for what I could not bear to lose,

but I lost all the same. I can still recall the taste of all

those defeats, as bitter as unripe plums.

His hands smell of anemone and mushrooms

on a spring morning.

The sea is flat as he is silent.

He’s a man who deals with silence and water, with

the weight of the stones in his pockets.