Nothing Recedes Like Progress.

Nothing Which We Are To Perceive In This World Equals The Power Of Your Intense Fragility:whose Texture Compels Me With The Colour Of Its Countries, Rendering Death And Forever With Each Breathing (i Do Not Know What It Is About You That Closes And Opens;only Something In Me Understands The Voice Of Your Eyes Is Deeper Than All Roses) Nobody,not Even The Rain, Has Such Small Hands -excerpt Of #35 From "100 Selected Poems

The Moon Rattles Like A Fragment Of Angry Candy

Women And Men(both Little And Small) Cared For Anyone Not At All They Sowed Their Isn’t They Reaped Their Same Sun Moon Stars Rain

Like The Burlesque Comedian, I Am Abnormally Fond Of That Precision Which Creates Movement.

I Like My Body When It Is With Your Body. It Is So Quite New A Thing. Muscles Better And Nerves More.