The boys and girls are one tonight. They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies. They take off shoes. They turn off the light. The glimmering creatures are full of lies. They are eating each other. They are overfed. At night, alone, I marry the bed.
In a dream you are never eighty.
The soul was not cured, it was as full as a clothes closet of dresses that did not fit.
The place I live in is a kind of maze and I keep seeking the exit or the home.
I think it will be a miracle if I don't someday end up killing myself.
The trouble with therapy is that it makes life go backwards.