Delusion detests focus and romance provides the veil.
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Suzanne Finnamore
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How can I grieve what is still in motion?" I ask her. "Shoes are still dropping all over the place. I´m not kidding," I say. "It´s Normandy out there.

By Suzanne Finnamore

I want to own this transition, not to simply swallow the shame of it entire. I will push for every little irony.

By Suzanne Finnamore

My mind floats like ash. I blame myself most cruelly.

By Suzanne Finnamore

The whole world seems tilted, my inner ear displaced by a hole where my spouse used to be.

By Suzanne Finnamore

Take me now, God!" I shout to the inky sky. "I´m ready."

By Suzanne Finnamore

God is great and God is good," Lisa says. "But where are the Apache attack helicopters when you need them?

By Suzanne Finnamore

I played possum. I did this, as the possum does, out of fear.

By Suzanne Finnamore

Bushwhacked, I examine my hands. Same hands. Rings still there but no longer valid.

By Suzanne Finnamore

I love you as the mother of my child": the kiss of death.

By Suzanne Finnamore

Surprises, I feel now, are primarily a form of violence.

By Suzanne Finnamore

I have a new mantra, which I chant softly to myself: "Oh My God Oh My God.

By Suzanne Finnamore

The snag about marriage is, it isn´t worth the divorce.

By Suzanne Finnamore

I am going insane. Yes. That is what´s happening. Good. Insane.

By Suzanne Finnamore

Already things are changing; it´s starting with small shit but oh it´s starting, the change, the irrevocable, impossible change.

By Suzanne Finnamore

He left a bit too easily and with obvious relief. His feet were swift and sure on the muddy path.

By Suzanne Finnamore
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