Here's to opening and upward... and to yourself and up with you and up with and up with laughing.

In just - Spring when the world is mud- luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee

Tomorrow is our permanent address.

love is a deeper season than reason; my sweet one

The symbol of all art is the Prism. The goal is unrealism. The method is destructive. To break up the white light of objective realism, into the secret glories which it contains.

I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more.

in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems