Mood Can Be As Important As Sense.

Then All This Became History. Your Hand Found Mine. Life Rushed To My Fingers Like A Blood Clot. Oh, My Carpenter, The Fingers Are Rebuilt. They Dance With Yours.

[i] Have Fantasies Of Killing Myself And Thus Being The Powerful One Not The Powerless One.

And We Are Magic Talking To Itself, Noisy And Alone. I Am Queen Of All My Sins Forgotten. Am I Still Lost? Once I Was Beautiful. Now I Am Myself

I Hoard Books. They Are People Who Do Not Leave.

Take Your Foot Out Of The Graveyard, They Are Busy Being Dead.