Throw away the light, the definitions, and say what you see in the dark.

Conceptions are artificial. Perceptions are essential.

Anything is beautiful if you say it is.

Like the Sweetness of Gardenias Mother, you died 15 years ago. pain, a rapier, cut until, finally, there was just peace like the sweetness of gardenias in the crystal vase on your yellow kitchen table. so fragrant. your voice lingers in my ear reminding, scolding, guiding a pleasant mantra of tenderness, magic words that move my palms, your palms. together we are molding, helping, creating. in the mirror I see your eyes, your beautiful brown circles looking back, so radiant. "don't forget me," you whispered the day you died. I won't.

Thought tends to collect in pools.

Out of this same light, out of the central mind, We make a dwelling in the evening air, In which being there together is enough.

Human nature is like water. It takes the shape of its container.