Let there be seasons so that our tongues will be rich in asparagus and limes.

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.

A woman who writes feels too much.

They [daisies] are my favorite flower. There is something innocent and vulnerable about them as if they thanked you for admiring them.

...became a woman who learned her own skin and dug into her soul and found it full.

Death's in the good-bye.

Love? Be it man. Be it woman. It must be a wave you want to glide in on, give your body to it, give your laugh to it, give, when the gravelly sand takes you, your tears to the land. To love another is something like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.