Even so, I must admire your skill. You are so gracefully insane.

I’ll put it out there: I am scarred by the nostalgic indicipherability of my own desires; I an engulfed by the intimidating unknown, pushed through darkness and dragged down by the irretrievable past sweetness of my memories.

You who have inhabited me in the deepest and most broken place, are going, going

The beautiful feeling after writing a poem is on the whole better even than after sex, and that's saying a lot.

It is June. I am tired of being brave.

It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious

It would be pleasant to be drunk.