Is Anyone Anywhere Happy?

This Is The Light Of The Mind, Cold And Planetary. The Trees Of The Mind Are Black. The Light Is Blue.

What Did My Fingers Do Before They Held Him? What Did My Heart Do, With Its Love?

I'm Happier Writing About Doctors Than I Would Have Been Being One.

Clouds Pass And Disperse. Are Those The Faces Of Love, Those Pale Irretrievables? Is It For Such I Agitate My Heart?

I Am So Hungry For A Big Smashing Creative Burgeoning Burdened Love.