We Walk The Plank With Strangers.

That Afternoon My Mother Had Brought Me The Roses. "save Them For My Funeral," I'd Said.

I, Love, I Am The Pure Acetylene Virgin Attended By Roses.

Let Me Sit In A Flowerpot, The Spiders Won't Notice. My Heart Is A Stopped Geranium.

Cold Glass, How You Insert Yourself Between Myself And Myself. I Scratch Like A Cat. The Blood That Runs Is Dark Fruit- An Effect, A Cosmetic. You Smile. No, It Is Not Fatal.

Joy:show Joy & Enjoy: Then Others Will Be Joyful.