We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!

She is so naked and singular. She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid.

The sea is mother-death and she is a mighty female, the one who wins, the one who sucks us all up.

The place I live in is a kind of maze and I keep seeking the exit or the home.

When I'm writing, I know I'm doing the thing I was born to do.

To be without God is to be a snake / who wants to swallow an elephant.

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.