It's been a long time since I asked anything of heaven, and my arms still haven't come down.
A little candor never leaves me. It is what protects me.
My poverty is not complete: it lacks me.
All the suns labor to kindle your flame and a microbe puts it out.
You are sad because they abandon you and you have not fallen.
Yes, I will go. I would rather grieve over your absence than over you.