my heart has more chambers than a whorehouse: each room small enough so that any tenant would either quickly tire of using it as a permanent residence or would immediately recognize the small area as an interlude, a baise-en-ville, where one does not live permanently (or indefinitely), which is comfortable and inviting but only for short stints of time.

renovation is needed for consolidation. i am too weak (afraid) to do it myself. besides, it’s work best left for an artisan. not a craftsman, for the craftsman learns by trade or practice, but rather a gifted artisan. for she could build the perfect abode without ever having picked up a hammer…