The Mind Is An Enchanting

To Wear The Arctic Fox You Have To Kill It.

When One Is Frank, One's Very Presence Is A Compliment.

Poetry ... ... A Place For The Genuine, Hands That Can Grasp, Eyes That Can Dilate, Hair That Can Rise

What Is Our Innocence, What Is Our Guilt? All Are Naked, None Is Safe.

The Mind Is An Enchanting Thing Is An Enchanted Thing, Like The Glaze On A Katydid-wing Subdivided By Sun Till The Nettings Are Legion.