Where Ever I Am Not Is The

We Are All Born Marked For Evil.

Nearly All Our Originality Comes From The Stamp That Time Impresses Upon Our Sensibility.

Evil Comes Up Softly Like A Flower.

I Can Barely Conceive Of A Type Of Beauty In Which There Is No Melancholy.

I Will Drop Into Your Chest Like A Vegetal Ambrosia. I Will Be The Grain That Regenerates The Cruelly Plowed Furrow. Poetry Will Be Born Of Our Intimate Union. A God We Shall Create Together, And We Shall Soar Heavenward Like Sunbeams, Perfumes, Butterflies, Birds, And All Winged Things.