Chime

"I love you."
Word magic. If you say a word, it leaps out and becomes truth. I love you. I believe it. I believe I am loveable. How can something as fragile as a word build a whole world?

"If you were a game," said Eldric, "you`d be a puzzle. If you were a piece of writing, you`d be a code."

Despite her cough, Rose was in unusually good spirits. That was irritating. If I`m to trade my life for Rose`s, I`d appreciate her exhibiting a touch of melancholy. Also acceptable would be despair.

It`s strange how a person can have a distinct distaste for herself, but still she clutches on to life.

Death had no lips, but it was smiling.

"What am I to call you?"
"You may call me Briony," I said, "which makes it awfully convenient because so does everyone else."

A poem doesn`t come out and tell you what it has to say. It circles back on itself, eating its own tale and making you guess what it means.