Why Should All Life Be Work, When

I Remember Every Single Spot Of Light That Ever Gouged A Shadow Beside Your Bones.

It Seemed To Alabama That, Reaching Her Goal, She Would Drive The Devils That Had Driven Her - That, In Proving Herself, She Would Achieve That Peace Which She Imagined Went Only In Surety Of One’s Self - That She Would Be Able, Through The Medium Of The Dance, To Command Her Emotions, To Summon Love Or Pity Or Happiness At Will, Having Provided A Channel Through Which They Might Flow. She Drove Herself Mercilessly, And The Summer Dragged On.

It's Terrible To Allow Conventional Habits To Gain A Hold On A Whole Household; To Eat, Sleep And Live By Clock Ticks.

Death Is The Only Real Elegance.

Something In Me Vibrates To A Dusky, Dreamy Smell Of Dying Moons And Shadows.