Poetry Is A Way Of Looking At

I Also Think That Life Itself Is Both Indifferent To Us And The Source Of All Of Our Joys And Everything That We Love. And It's Necessary To Accept The One In Order To Love The Other.

Certain Words Now In Our Knowledge We Will Not Use Again, And We Will Never Forget Them. We Need Them. Like The Back Of The Picture.

Separation Your Absence Has Gone Through Me Like Thread Through A Needle. Everything I Do Is Stitched With Its Color.

I Say To My Breath Once Again, Little Breath Come From In Front Of Me, Go Away Behind Me, Row Me Quietly Now, As Far As You Can, For I Am An Abyss That I Am Trying To Cross.

My Words Are The Garment Of What I Shall Never Be Like The Tucked Sleeve Of A One-armed Boy.