I love you. You are closest to my heart, closer than any other human being. You are my extension. You are my prayer. You are my belief in God. For better or worse you inherit me.
I think of myself as writing for one person, that one perfect reader who understands and loves.
Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.
Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.
The man inside of woman ties a knot so that they will never again be separate.