Prose Is Walking; Poetry Is Flying

Go So Deep Into Yourself, You Speak For Everyone.

Kiss The Mouth Which Tells You, Here, Here Is The World. This Mouth. This Laughter. These Temple Bones.

The First Step In The Journey Is To Lose Your Way.

Let Our Scars Fall In Love.

Little Sleep's-head Sprouting Hair In The Moonlight, When I Come Back We Will Go Out Together, We Will Walk Out Together Among, The Ten Thousand Things, Each Scratched Too Late With Such Knowledge, The Wages Of Dying Is Love.