I am sick of death and worst of all this sickness feeds on itself, the more afraid I am the more I am afraid the more I flee the more I am afraid the more I am haunted.
Only when you are lost can love find itself in you without losing its way.
Other-Love is writing's first name.
It is said that life and death are under the power of language.
Writing is the passageway, the entrance, the exit, the dwelling place of the other in me.
in the synagogue of my heart... I myself jail and the jailed, I go wounded, bite-marked