Some Women Marry Houses. It's

A Woman / Who Loves A Woman / Is Forever Young.

I Think Of Myself As Writing For One Person, That One Perfect Reader Who Understands And Loves.

The Stars Are Pears That No One Can Reach, Even For A Wedding. Perhaps For A Death.

I Am Younger Each Year At The First Snow. When I See It, Suddenly, In The Air, All Little And White And Moving; Then I Am In Love Again And Very Young And I Believe Everything.

Death, I Need My Little Addiction To You. I Need That Tiny Voice Who, Even As I Rise From The Sea, All Woman, All There, Says Kill Me, Kill Me.