Today is today, and yesterday is gone. There is no doubt.

Let us look for secret things somewhere in the world on the blue shore of silence or where the storm has passed rampaging like a train. There the faint signs are left, coins of time and water, debris ,celestial ash and the irreplaceable rapture of sharing in the labour of soitude in the sand.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.

If suddenly you do not exist, If suddenly you are not living, I shall go on living. I do not dare, I do not dare to write it, if you die. I shall go on living.

To love is to tilt with the lightning, two bodies routed by a single honey's sweet.

Love is a clash of lightnings