Jacob Lawrence, "The Lovers," 1946
Jacob Lawrence, The Lovers (1946)
Can a Game Be Literature?

Mark's Pages

March 25, 2010:

We checked into a room. Her cheating, me giving her everything I could think of, to fill her with something other than her own collapse.

Because I loved her with my bones and blood, and I believed myself to be guilty toward her.

Sweet memory. Tender and sad. There was beauty there, but it was all gone, and it never came again.