Perhaps I am no one. True, I have a body and I cannot escape from it. I would like to fly out of my head, but that is out of the question.

The man inside of woman ties a knot so that they will never again be separate.

I am so imperfect, can you love me when really my soul is deformed? Will you love me anyhow?

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

... and my love stays bitterly glowing, spasms of it will not sleep, and I am helpless and thirsty and need shade but there is no one to cover me- not even God.

I hoard books. They are people who do not leave.

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.