ith this fine little book of verses, Phillips returns his focus on the emotional intensity of human desire and the upheaval of loss. Chronicling a past of memorable encounters with "women of substance" and a "life of promise and possibilities" he sees through the deceptive facade of sentiment and the innocuous appeal of romantic victimization. And all along the way he continues to ask himself:
Who are we then, these X and Y chromosomes, these givers and receivers, these entities of bone and skin? Between these two equals are opposites that repel and attract. Opposites that love and hate, fear and desire. That there remains a permanent divide is what makes the adventure all the more compelling. Who we are and what makes this sharing of selves so complicated and, at times, so fitful and fulfilling remains the eternal struggle. The struggle is to make sense of our senses, to understand and relish the distinctions, revel in the differences.