somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

all by all and deep by deep and more by more they dream their sleep noone and anyone earth by april wish by spirit and if by yes

Whenever you think or you believe or you know, you're a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you're nobody-but-yourself.

our can'ts were born to happen our mosts have died in more

To destroy is always the first step in any creation.

Meanwhile myself et cetera lay quietly in the deep mud et cetera (dreaming, et cetera, of your smile eyes knees and of your Etcetera.)

So far as I am concerned, poetry and every other art was, is, and forever will be strictly and distinctly a question of individuality.