So much of adolescence is an ill-defined dying, An intolerable waiting, A longing for another place and time, Another condition.
The damage of teaching: the constant contact with the undeveloped.
The poet: would rather eat a heart than a hambone.
How body from spirit slowly does unwind, until we are pure spirit at the end.
Time marks us while we are marking time.
I came to love, I came into my own.