Without My Wounds, Who Was

Although She Was Giddy With Exhaustion, Sleep Was A Lover Who Refused To Be Touched.

There Is No God, There Is Only What You Want.

I Closed My Eyes To Watch Tiny Dancers Like Jeweled Birds Cross The Dark Screen Of My Eyelids.

She’s Not As Pretty As You,” I Said “but She’s A Simpler Girl,” My Mother Whispered.

Find Someone Who Will Tremble For Your Touch, Someone Whose Fingers Are A Poem.