One day, I will be a poet. Water will depend on my visions.
History laughs at both the victim and the aggressor.
I don't decide to represent anything except myself. But that self is full of collective memory.
If the Olive Trees knew the hands that planted them, Their Oil would become Tears.
I wish I were a candle in the darkness.
We are captives of what we love, what we desire, and what we are.