"How often I have leapt into that fire,
how often burned like a torch, my hair
streaming sparks, and wakened to weep
ashes. I have said, love is a downer we take,
love is a habit like sucking on death tit cigarettes,
love is a bastard art. Instead of painting
or composing, we compose a beloved.
When you love for a living, I have said,
you're doomed to early retirement without benefits.

For women have died and worms have eaten them
and just for love. Love of the wrong man or
the right."

-Marge Piercy

11 tracks