Woman does not forget she needs the fecundator, she does not forget that everything that is born of her is planted in her.

We write to taste life twice, in the moment, and in retrospection.

She makes use of the soft of the bread for a napkin. She falls asleep at times with shoes on, on unmade beds. When a little money comes in, June buys delicacies, strawberries in the winter, caviar and bath salts.

The truly faithless one is the one who makes love to only a fraction of you. And denies the rest.

I want to make my own discoveries…….penetrate the evil which attracts me

To write at the same temperature at which I live I should write nothing but poetry.

Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness.