I will find that special person who is wrong for me in just the right way.
The first step in the journey is to lose your way.
Go so deep into yourself, you speak for everyone.
To me, poetry is somebody standing up, so to speak, and saying, with as little concealment as possible, what it is for him or her to be on earth at this moment
Is there a mechanism of death, that so mutilates existence no one, gets over it not even the dead?
Little sleep's-head sprouting hair in the moonlight, when I come back we will go out together, we will walk out together among, the ten thousand things, each scratched too late with such knowledge, the wages of dying is love.