The Stars Of Death Stood Over Us.

All Has Been Looted, Betrayed, Sold; Black Death's Wing Flashed Ahead.

I Am In The Middle Of It: Chaos And Poetry; Poetry And Love And Again, Complete Chaos. Pain, Disorder, Occasional Clarity; And At The Bottom Of It All: Only Love; Poetry. Sheer Enchantment, Fear, Humiliation. It All Comes With Love

The Word Dropped Like A Stone On My Still Living Breast. Confess: I Was Prepared, Am Somehow Ready For The Test.

Today I Have So Much To Do: I Must Kill Memory Once And For All, I Must Turn My Soul To Stone, I Must Learn To Live Again. Unless ... Summer's Ardent Rustling Is Like A Festival Outside My Window.

Hands, Matches, An Ashtray. A Ritual Beautiful And Bitter.