Nothing will unfold for us unless we move toward whatlooks to us like nothing: faith is a cascade.

… It’s the rareGod who needs less stroking that a rockStar or poetician …

It’s just me throwing myself at you,romance as usual, us times us,not lust but moxibustion,a substance burning closeto the body as possiblewithout risk of immolation.

Anguish is the universal language

Silence is so steadfast, you know. It is so ample, after all.

While you’re alive there’s no time for minor amazements.