The Heart The Heart The Heart How

I Fear No Man, No Woman; Flower Does Not Fear Bird, Insect Nor Adder.

Remember The Golden Apple-trees; O, Do Not Pity Them, As You Watch Them Drop One By One, For They Fall Exhausted, Numb, Blind But In Certain Ecstasy, For Theirs Is The Hunger For Paradise.

For This Beauty, Beauty Without Strength, Chokes Out Life.

Why Wait For Death To Mow? Why Wait For Death To Sow Us In The Ground?

No Man Will Be Present In Those Mysteries, Yet All Men Will Kneel, No Man Will Be Potent, Important, Yet All Men Will Feel What It Is To Be A Woman.