Become something you’re not. That’s the first rule of the game. The third rule has to do with the way you breathe, though you’ll never get to rule three if you skip rule two, which says you must surf someone’s tongue with your tongue no matter how hot the inside your mouth becomes, because heat is the fastest way to move—even faster than light unless you listen to science. Rule number four: Never listen to science if it gets in the way of loving right. Science is not the same as biology, chemistry, and philosophy, though by the sound they make at sunrise along the river’s curve, you would never know. The fifth rule says remember the first rule or none of this matters. The next rule wants you to lose count because you pay far too much attention to rules and numbers and order when all you need is to breathe in the people around you with the bottom of your lungs. Do not use your tongue because its pink wave is already busy: See rule two. If you still follow rules, the last rule is embarrassing in how silent it is, how simple and elegant and utterly unforgiving.