At The Best Of Times, Spring Hurts

We Must Not Blame Our Poor Symbols If They Take Forms That Seem Trivial To Us, Or Absurd, ... However Paltry They May Be; The Nature Of Our Life Alone Has Determined Their Forms.

If The Barbarians Are Destroyed, Who Will We Then Be Able To Blame For The Bad Things?

Moonlight, White Satin, Roses. A Bride.

His Touch Both Consoles And Devastates Me; I Feel My Heart Pulse, Then Wither, Naked As A Stone On The Roaring Mattress While The Lovely, Moony Night Slides Through The Window To Dapple The Flanks Of This Innocent Who Makes Cages To Keep The Sweet Birds In. Eat Me, Drink Me; Thirsty, Cankered, Goblin-ridden, I Go Back And Back To Him To Have His Fingers Strip The Tattered Skin Away And Clothe Me In His Dress Of Water, This Garment That Drenches Me, Its Slithering Odour, Its Capacity For Drowning.

Anticipation Is The Greater Part Of Pleasure.