Like a fist arcing from ground to chin; like a sledge heaved from the middle back toward the fatted calf. These are ways to describe the knockout punch of her eyes, the haymaker of her lips. Lives like ours were never meant to coincide. They were meant to stay derailed, to careen wildly through unsuspecting farmer’s fields. There were never meant to slough their skins and fly away from where they were conceived, to meet in midair and sting each other out of sullen moods. They should never have formed the one thing they were destined to obviate. They were never meant to be the fuck of light that blinds them or to speak as though the one who should be hearing has felt the words leave his or her lips.

- Christopher Kennedy, from Touble with the Machine

I absolutely adore his prose.