What I wanted to do was to fasten my index finger and thumb at the bolts of your collar bone, push out, spread the web of my hand until it caught against your throat. You asked me if I wanted to strangle you. No, I wanted to fit you, not just in the obvious ways but in so many indentations.

You don't get over it because 'it' is the person you loved.

...there are two kinds of writing: the one you write and the one that writes you.

I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you. For me, imagination and desire are very close.

Intensity is the desire to receive. Open yourself to light and you will become light.

We live in a world of buy it or leave it. Love does not signify.

I think it would be very foolish not to take the irrational seriously.