Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.

Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.

Maybe someone will know I didn't weave crowns to draw blood; that I faught against mockery; that I did fill the high tide of my soul with truth. I repaid vileness with doves.

Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south? Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

Hands make the world each day.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.