love being such, or such, the normal corners of your heart will never guess how much my wonderful jealousy is dark

...and down they forgot as up they grew.

love being such, or such, the normal corners of your heart will never guess how much my wonderful jealousy is dark

We can never be born enough.

There are certain things in which one is unable to believe for the simple reason that he never ceases to feel them. Things of this sort - things which are always inside of us and in fact are us and which consequently will not be pushed off or away where we can begin thinking about them - are no longer things; they, and the us which they are, equals A Verb; an IS.

his lips drink water but his heart drinks wine

I imagine that yes is the only living thing.