The visible exhausts me. I am dissolved in shadow.
The poet: would rather eat a heart than a hambone.
I'm sure I've been a toad, one time or another. With bats, weasels, worms...I rejoice in the kinship. Even the caterpillar I can love, and the various vermin.
Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.
Be sure that whatever you are is you.
Pain wanders through my bones like a lost fire