What Does Autumn Go On Paying For

Am I Allowed To Ask My Book / Whether It's True I Wrote It?

The Truth Is In The Prolouge. Death To The Romantic Fool., The Expert In Solitary Confinement.

I Stroll Along Serenely, With My Eyes, My Shoes, My Rage, Forgetting Everything.

Absence Is A House So Vast That Inside You Will Pass Through Its Walls And Hang Pictures On The Air.

Girl Lithe And Tawny, The Sun That Forms The Fruits, That Plumps The Grains, That Curls Seaweeds Filled Your Body With Joy, And Your Luminous Eyes And Your Mouth That Has The Smile Of The Water. A Black Yearning Sun Is Braided Into The Strands Of Your Black Mane, When You Stretch Your Arms. You Play With The Sun As With A Little Brook And It Leaves Two Dark Pools In Your Eyes.