At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do.

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell.

Mother of otherness, Eat me.

And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die.

And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.

What do you have in mind after you graduate?" What I always thought I had in mind was getting some big scholarship to graduate school or a grant to study all over Europe, and then I thought I'd be a professor and write books of poems or write books of poems and be an editor of some sort. Usually I had these plans on the tip of my tongue. "I don't really know," I heard myself say. I felt a deep shock, hearing myself say that, because the minute I said it, I knew it was true.

Love is the bone and sinew of my curse.