of the station.
“Yeah. I prefer being unfree, too. Up to a point. Jean-Jacques Rousseau defined civilization as when people build fences.
That night you make love again. You listen as the blank within her is filled. It’s a faint sound, like fine sand on a shore crumbling in the moonlight. You hold your breath, listening. You’re inside your theory now. Then you’re outside. And inside again, then outside. You inhale, hold it, exhale. Inhale, hold it, exhale. Prince sings on, like some mollusk in your head.