If it's darkness we're having, let it be extravagant.
There's just no accounting for happiness, or the way it turns up like a prodigal who comes back to the dust at your feet having squandered a fortune far away.
Let it come, as it will, and don't be afraid. God does not leave us comfortless, so let evening come.
Everyone longs for love's tense joys and red delights.
I am the one whose love overcomes you, already with you when you think to call my name.
My ear is not working, my poetry ear. I can't write a line that doesn't sound like pots and pans falling out of the cupboard.