Let's kneel down through all the worlds of the body like lovers. I know I am a tree and full of life and I know you, you are the flying one and will leave. But can't we swallow the sweetness and can't you sing in my arms and sleep in the human light of the sun and moon I have been drinking alone.

We are full of bread and gas, getting fat on the outside while inside we grow thin

The crocodile doesn't harm the bird that cleans his teeth for him. He eats the others but not that one.

Mystery is part of each life, and maybe it is healthier to uphold it than to spend a lifetime in search of half-made answers.

Death is dancing me ragged.

I resented my mother for guessing my innermost secrets. She was like God, everywhere at once knowing everything.

A woman once described a friend of hers as being such a keen listener that even the trees leaned toward her, as if they were speaking their innermost secrets into her listening ears. Over the years I’ve envisioned that woman’s silence, a hearing full and open enough that the world told her its stories. The green leaves turned toward her, whispering tales of soft breezes and the murmurs of leaf against leaf.