You Are Like Nobody Since I Love

In The House Of Poetry Nothing Endures That Is Not Written With Blood To Be Heard With Blood.

You & I, Love, Together We Ratify The Silence, While The Sea Destroys Its Perpetual Statues, Collapses Its Towers Of Wild Speed And Whiteness: Because In The Weavings Of Those Invisible Fabrics, Galloping Water, Incessant Sand, We Make The Only Permanent Tenderness.

I Like On The Table, When We're Speaking, The Light Of A Bottle Of Intelligent Wine.

So The Freshness Lives On In A Lemon, In The Sweet-smelling House Of The Rind, The Proportions, Arcane And Acerb.

Shyness Is A Condition Foreign To The Heart - A Category, A Dimension Which Leads To Loneliness.