since feelings come first, who cares about the syntax of things?

As small as a world as large as alone.

-Before leaving my room i turn, and (stooping through the morning) kiss this pillow, dear where our heads lived and were.

O sweet spontaneous earth

Only by you my heart always moves.

All ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.

Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)