Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem.
Don't bite till you know if it's bread or stone.
Love your self's self where it lives.
Need is not quite belief.
But suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build. Twice I have so simply declared myself, have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy, have taken on his craft, his magic.