Your mouth on mine our bridge to cross and serve where we would go. Utopia of sensations the flesh could never know.
Truth may sometimes hurt, but delusion harms.
A poet's first contract is with truth.
Patience is being friends with Time.
If you were the sky, I would unfurl myself in you, as a rainbow of colors yet unseen. I would become oceans of stars in your night.
Poetry is our heart, our spirit, our soul. Call it whatever; without it, everything else is nothing but hardware.