From Cane Reeds, Sugar. From A Worm's

Without You The Instruments Would Die. One Sits Close Beside You. Another Takes A Long Kiss. The Tambourine Begs, Touch My Skin So I Can Be Myself. Let Me Feel You Enter Each Limb Bone By Bone, That What Died Last Night Can Be Whole Today. Why Live Some Soberer Way, And Feel You Ebbing Out? I Won't Do It. Either Give Me Enough Wine Or Leave Me Alone, Now That I Know How It Is To Be With You In Constant Conversation.

What The Sayer Of Praise Is Really Praising Is Himself, By Saying Implicitly, My Eyes Are Clear." Likewise, Someone Who Criticizes Is Criticizing Himself, Saying Implicitly, "i Can't See Very Well With My Eyes So Inflamed.

‎there Is A Place Where Voices Sing Your Beauty, A Place Where Every Breath Carves Your Image In My Soul.

May These Vows And This Marriage Be Blessed.

Knowledge That Is Acquired Is Not Like This. Those Who Have It Worry If Audiences Like It Or Not. It's A Bait For Popularity. Disputational Knowing Wants Customers. It Has No Soul... The Only Real Customer Is God. Chew Quietly Your Sweet Sugarcane God-love, And Stay Playfully Childish.