A bouquet of clumsy words: you know that place between sleep and awake where you're still dreaming but it's slowly slipping? I wish we could feel like that more often. I also wish I could click my fingers three times and be transported to anywhere I like. I wish that people didn't always say 'just wondering' when you both know there was a real reason behind them asking. And I wish I could get lost in the stars. Listen, there's a hell of a good universe next door, let's go.

The sweet small clumsy feet of april came into the ragged meadow of my soul.

Unbeing dead isn't being alive.

may my heart always be open to little birds who are the secrets of living

O gouvernment francais, I think it was not very clever of You to put this terrible doll in La Ferte; for when Governments are found dead there is always a little doll on top of them, pulling and tweaking with his little hands to get back at the microscopic knife which sticks firmly in the quiet meat of their hearts.

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness