Your Wide Eyes Are The Only Light

Sonnet Xxv Before I Loved You, Love, Nothing Was My Own: I Wavered Through The Streets, Among Objects: Nothing Mattered Or Had A Name: The World Was Made Of Air, Which Waited. I Knew Rooms Full Of Ashes, Tunnels Where The Moon Lived, Rough Warehouses That Growled 'get Lost', Questions That Insisted In The Sand. Everything Was Empty, Dead, Mute, Fallen Abandoned, And Decayed: Inconceivably Alien, It All Belonged To Someone Else - To No One: Till Your Beauty And Your Poverty Filled The Autumn Plentiful With Gifts.

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

While I'm Writing, I'm Far Away; And When I Come Back, I've Gone.

To Feel The Love Of People Whom We Love Is A Fire That Feeds Our Life.

Two Things Make A Story. The Net And The Air That Falls Through The Net.