[the Essences Of Things] Are Suspended On

Love: A Burnt Match Skating In A Urinal.

And I Have Been Able To Give Freedom And Life Which Was Acknowledged In The Ecstasy Of Walking Hand In Hand Across The Most Beautiful Bridge Of The World, The Cables Enclosing Us And Pulling Us Upward In Such A Dance As I Have Never Walked And Never Can Walk With Another.

Let My Lusts Be My Ruin, Then, Since All Else Is A Fake And A Mockery.

And So It Was I Entered The Broken World To Trace The Visionary Company Of Love, Its Voice An Instant In The Wind (i Know Not Whither Hurled) But Not For Long To Hold Each Desperate Choice.

Your Primary Presumption That The Bridge Was Proffered As An Epic Has No Substantial Foundation. You Know Quite Well That I Doubt That Our Present Stage Of Cultural Development Is So Ordered Yet As To Provide The Means Or Method For Such An Organic Manifestation As That.