the subtlety, the shouting at 1 am even though we’re miles away. just as i feared.
and as he put his arm around him my heart sunk and i turned away. i’ll banter and i’ll have asthma attacks but we will never touch again, will we? my head is empty,
we fight everytime we visit each other. in the streets of east village in new york, unkissed and sunrisen; matchmaker, matchmaker, look through your book
“i’m not one for diagnoses”
we will all miss you, says my papa, and in my weak russian accent i defy him. i like it. good reviews, high expectations. they’ll be ironed out
matchmaker, matchmaker, you need to find me someone very patient and good, who doesn’t think i’m intimidating or too much.