No Poetic Phantasy But A Biological Reality,

Let Love Step Down, Open The Clasped Hands, Forfeit The Thorny Crown, Retrieve The Garment That Was Whole, Body And Spirit One, Spirit And Soul.

Dance Until The Earth Dance.

I Spit Honey Out Of My Mouth: Nothing Is Second-best After The Sweet Of Eros.

One Flower May Slay The Winter And Meet Death.

Lovers May Come And Go, There Was The Memory Of Blood, The Low Call.