My Loneliness Was Born When Men Praised

Forgetfulness Is A Form Of Freedom.

Is Not The Cup That Holds Your Wine The Very Cup That Was Burned In The Potter’s Oven?

Your Clothes Conceal Much Of Your Beauty, Yet They Hide Not The Unbeautiful. And Though You Seek In Garments The Freedom Of Privacy, You May Find In Them A Harness And A Chain. Would That You Could Meet The Sun And The Wind With More Of Your Body And Less Of Your Raiment.

Some Think I Wink At Them When I Shut My Eyes To Avoid Their Sight.

Work Is Love Made Visible.