The Smell Of Opium Is The Least

I Have Seafoam In My Veins, I Understand The Language Of Waves.

Without Resistance You Can Do Nothing

One Should Always Talk Well About Oneself! The Word Spreads Around And In The End, Noone Remembers Where It Started

Every Poem Is A Coat Of Arms. It Must Be Deciphered. How Much Blood, How Many Tears In Exchange For These Axes, These Muzzles, These Unicorns, These Torches, These Towers, These Martlets, These Seedlings Of Stars And These Fields Of Blue!

There Are Poets And There Are Grownups.