This creature of the poem may assemble itself into a being with its own centrifugal force.
I didn't have time to sit down and look at the work of a year and choose what to type.
I wish I wrote more about the world at more distance from myself.
I did not know him, I knew my idea of him.
Maybe we can use a metaphor for it, out of dance. I think for many years I was aware of the need, in dance and in life, to breathe deeply and to take in more air than we usually take in.
Maybe in order to understand sex fully/one has to risk being destroyed by it.