In The Middle Of My

Shams, My Body Is A Candle Touched With Fire.

Listen To Presences Inside Poems, Let Them Take You Where They Will. Follow Those Private Hints, And Never Leave The Premises.

A Lover's Life Lies In Death. You Shall Not Find A Heart Without Losing The Heart.

There’s Nothing Left Of Me. I’m Like A Ruby Held Up To The Sunrise. Is It Still A Stone, Or A World Made Of Redness? It Has No Resistance To Sunlight.

What Will Our Children Do In The Morning If They Do Not See Us Fly?