What Is So Real As The Cry

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

She Stared At Her Reflection In The Glossed Shop Windows As If To Make Sure, Moment By Moment, That She Continued To Exist.

So I Kiss Him, And There Is The Great Dark Sea Ahead.

Miracles Occur, If You Dare To Call Those Spasmodic Tricks Of Radiance Miracles. The Wait's Begun Again, The Long Wait For The Angel, For That Rare, Random Descent.

One Thing, I Try To Be Honest. And What Is Revealed Is Often Rather Hideously Unflattering.