The thought, when written down, becomes less oppressive, but some thoughts are like a cancerous tumor: you express is, you excise it, and it grows back worse than before.
Poetry involves the mysteries of the irrational perceived through rational words.
In and out of my heart flowed my rainbow blood.
I don't think in any language. I think in images.
Don't cry, I'm sorry to have deceived you so much, but that's how life is.
There are aphorisms that, like airplanes, stay up only while they are in motion.