At the end of my suffering/there was a door.

The soul is silent. If it speaks at all it speaks in dreams.

I had nothing and I was still changed. Like a costume, my numbness was taken away. Then hunger was added.

I am attracted to ellipsis, to the unsaid, to suggestion, to eloquent, deliberate silence. The unsaid, for me, exerts great power: often I wish an entire poem could be made in this vocabulary. It is analogous to the unseen.

The great thing is not having a mind. Feelings: oh, I have those; they govern me.

To raise the veil. To see what you're saying goodbye to.

I caution you as I was never cautioned: You will never let go, you will never be satiated. You will be damaged and scarred, you will continue to hunger. Your body will age, you will continue to need. You will want the earth, then more of the earth-- Sublime, indifferent, it is present, it will not respond. It is encompassing, it will not minister. Meaning, it will feed you, it will ravish you. It will not keep you alive.