deeds cannot dream what dreams can do
(and from my thighs which shrug and pant a murdering rain leapingly reaches the upward singular deepest flower which she carries in a gesture of her hips)
the moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy
Knowledge is a polite word for dead but not buried imagination.
You and I are more than you and I because it's we.
time is a tree (this life one leaf) but love is the sky and i am for you just so long and long enough