I ride earth's burning carousel. Day in, day out.

God, it was good to let go, let the tight mask fall off, and the bewildered, chaotic fragments pour out. It was the purge, the catharsis.

If you pluck out my heart To find what makes it move, You’ll halt the clock That syncopates our love.

I am jealous of those who think more deeply, who write better, who draw better, who ski better, who look better, who live better, who love better than I.

Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.

Oh what a poet I will flay myself into.

Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart?