There's always more to see.

Damn wind shift sudden as a woman mind.

We look and see what we see in a mirror, and we believe it. That's important, the question of belief. The question is: Should we believe what we see in a mirror?

Who cares about a kid from the Midwest writing pentameter? It's stupid.

Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor.

Slowly my body grows a single sound, slowly I become a bell, an oval, disembodied vowel, I grow, an owl, an aureole, white fire poesia "Metamorfosi, I. Luna

You can't write drunk.