I have slept with you all night long while the dark earth spins with the living and the dead, and on waking suddenly in the midst of the shadow my arm encircled your waist. Neither night nor sleep could separate us.

For now I ask no more Than the justice of eating.

For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing.

Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.

I am made of earth, and my song made of words.

I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.

At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.