you ever see madonna shy about being in the grasp of a man? ever see
her look away from the camera? ever see sean penn smile at the camera
the way he's smiling here?
damn straight. only
one man could turn a diva into a dandilion and blow her away. and only
one man could melt the toughness right off a bad boy from malibu.
a poet. an artist.
a writer. and yes, a novelist. an american novelist. one who drank and
drank and wrote and wrote. one who wrote until he died. and lived while
he was alive, and worked for a living, and wore trousers and got his
fingers and his nose and his uniform dirty working it for you.
all those dark nights
in small rooms clacking away at the typer he did it for you and madonna
knows it. and you know it. and, fuck, sean cant believe it.