The Lamentable Expression: 'but It Was Only

It Is Living And Ceasing To Live That Are Imaginary Solutions. Existence Is Elsewhere.

...with The End Of My Breath, Which Is The Beginning Of Yours.

Who Am I? If This Once I Were To Rely On A Proverb, Then Perhaps Everything Would Amount To Knowing Whom I 'haunt.'

At The Outset, It Is Only Liking, Not Understanding, That Matters. Gaps In Understanding ... Are Not Only Important, They Are Perhaps Even Welcome, Like Clearings In The Woods, The Better To Allow The Heart's Rays To Stream Out Without Obstacle. The Unlit Shadows Should Remain Obscure, Which Is The Very Condition Of Enchantment.

I Insist On Knowing The Names, On Being Interested Only In Books Left Ajar, Like Doors; I Will Not Go Looking For Keys.