Fugue

I dressed her in a pair of her attention the licked lips she used to wear when we were dating.

I made my excuses and fled so close to the same mistakes she had day she came to where I work and pulled the shirt off with sudden herself in my ear to whisper that sweating in the heat I had turned up the whole day after we spoke that bumps.

I arranged her body in poses half-crazy until she went home to ignore the old ways the past invented to the bedroom to fuck.

She undressed.

She had no fear in showing inside her the way she knew a man. Her arms to cover her breasts never this. She opened her sex-life and bones and pale skin.

--from Fugue, fold-in section 3.2.2

I loved her and would love her both clothed and naked and again. I don't know where she is or home. I asked for what I thought the kisses to love. Our first kiss was one told me I had made a mistake. I would like to play with passion and me anyway with a bag of clothes a mad innocent.

We smiled all the way to the sides.

She dressed and undressed tongues. It was research for a novel outside and in her car circling as I my main character was about to kiss.

--from Fugue, fold-in section 1.3.1

It started with a typewriter and a knife... and a girl. Always a girl, I guess.

--from Nicholas Tyler interview, New England Aquarium, February 2001

She cataloged her favorite I would never have allowed when her ecstacies offering her past as shy friend knew it all but don't hollow of my mattress letting my came was doing for me.

I'm sure she didn't dance her thighs her small breasts together squeezing a hug into panties covering her hand working mound as she lay on the floor naked feeling the muscles in her pelvis loosely together. A remembered come in my arms shouting release into sure it was for me.

She dressed in whine of camera flash subsiding and catch place as she covered her body wet and undeveloped on the bed beside and haloed by dusty amber light.

--from Fugue, fold-in section 2.3.3

She was flattered and pleased when I had thought about me and another afternoon was not what I had hoped.

She told me I had just learned to hate despite that let me in. She cataloged her favorite and me.

We decided without saying her ecstacies offering her past as weeks later we were talking about me hollow of my mattress letting me know a few things. When I told her dancer's thighs her small breasts stopped our walk and stepped close to panties covering her hand working real yoned across the counter stretching.

--from Fugue, Cut-up section 13.2

No, no, I had that Electra typewriter, the one my father wrote his master thesis on. And I sat that thing on a wooden chair and typed everything up in six hours. Then I broke out the glue and the scissors.

--from Nicholas Tyler interview, Charlie's Kitchen, Cambridge MA, 2000.

When I open my notebooks, they puff the smell of paper cement. It is a thick smell, almost tasty, but not quite. If I work too long with the glue, I start to chuckle without any reason.

--from Fugue, Prelude section As Words.5

Man the whole day after we spoke that she was flattered and please when I her half-crazy until she went home the afternoon was not what I had hoped to the bedroom to fuck. She controlling boyfriend his alcoholic him inside her the way she knew a man him in the house he owned and she fell this. She opened her sex-life and from my own broken relationship and her regrets her frustrations and I had just learned to hate despite the undressed for me.

She sunk into and me. We decided without saying there's a click-flash take her skin her weeks later we were talking about me ill covered by flimsy silk tight blue I know a few things. When I told her loving my arm cradling her and one hand stopped our walk and stepped close to tighten until she made herself real, you did that? I shivered under the air that still held the pop and bright green eyes the hand on my arm curling into my body her image still suddenly horny and confused. The next me leaned across the counter, stretching.

--from Fugue, cut-up section 41.2

Of her, against bare skin and goose I have a photo of my ex-girlfriend that thought I'd never see again trying her hands on my kitchen counter star irritable desires I had for her when she maker. She looks like she is praying. Her body to me again never curling she let me shoot eight rolls of film topping my lens as it charted her then went home to the man she had left would never have allowed when I could not happen and she said yes.

The friend knew it all but I don't and I knew they were right but she was doing for me I'm sure she didn't pair of hats and panties with clips bodies together squeezing a hug into behind a closed door. We took photos and as she lay on the floor naked snapped until she told me she hadn't loosely together a remembered slept in. I dressed her in a pair of sure it was for me. She dressed and used to wear when we were dating. We catch each plase as she covered her body so close to the same mistakes she had haloed by dusty amber light and pulled the shirt off the sudden gaze she knew and no longer needed.

--from Fugue, cut-up section 14.3

I loved her and would love gasping clinches I remember again. I don't know where she is or her back to touch her where I had kisses to love. Our first kiss I broke the kiss to tell her I would like to play with passion and it was mistaken chivalry.

We and innocent.

We smiled all the way tangle of infidelity and stopped each of tongues. It was research for a novel she could have saved me from that my main character was about to kiss a lied. The last kiss was mistimed something I had yet to do. How could never have the thrill again. She knew we were fibbing with each other had taken that away. I wish I could mild betrayal of our lover's trust. Kiss again. While we loved each other. That kiss.

--from Fugue, cut-up section 41.1