And I, Love, Am A

I Can't Be Satisfied With The Colossal Job Of Merely Living.

Love, Love, I Have Hung Our Cave With Roses.

And I, Love, Am A Pathological Liar.

Ash, Ash —- You Poke And Stir. Flesh, Bone, There Is Nothing There—— A Cake Of Soap, A Wedding Ring, A Gold Filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out Of The Ash I Rise With My Red Hair And I Eat Men Like Air.

After All, We Are Nothing More Or Less Than We Choose To Reveal.