The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.
I bet you could sometimes find all the mysteries of the universe in someone's hand.
Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer could end in a downpour. Could end in lightning and thunder.
We all fight our own private wars.
But love was always something heavy for me. Something I had to carry.
To be careful with people and with words was a rare and beautiful thing.
I hated being volunteered. The problem with my life was that it was someone else's idea.
I got to thinking that poems were like people. Some people you got right off the bat. Some people you just didn't get--and never would get.
Words were different when they lived inside of you.
Maybe we just lived between hurting and healing.
How could I have ever been ashamed of loving Dante Quintana?
I had a feeling there was something wrong with me. I guess I was a mystery even to myself.
I wanted to tell them that I'd never had a friend, not ever, not a real one. Until Dante. I wanted to tell them that I never knew that people like Dante existed in the world, people who looked at the...
And it seemed to me that Dante's face was a map of the world. A world without any darkness.Wow, a world without darkness. How beautiful was that?
I renamed myself Ari.If I switched the letter, my name was Air.I thought it might be a great thing to be the air.I could be something and nothing at the same time. I could be necessary and also invisi...