The prize of gathering and ordering an entire body
So your tongue moves in solitude
Your words give off the others you know nothing about
You have crossed through loneliness
Living energy of Intelligence
How should they love you
Whitish belly
Experience has gradually saddened
You speak for them
You cross over again
Would you ever expect not to hurt?
I should sleep I would like to sleep
Can
metaphor kill pain
You
miss the nameable dead horribly
Seldom drumming
Impossible
I don't know
Mourning lost bed warmth
Your solitude is strangely companionable.
Isolated black streaks
There is no one to tell in
Resident
There's nothing to say
Usually a simple movement
speculative
The impress of reason
This love vague and necessary
your
rainbow eyes
and all the time you are
Where you could say the dead are
You have to go back, with ink in your mouth
s
In quick-sand dreams
Nature as a mirror or reflex of the intelligence of man
a guiding thread
quite natural for them
you can
no plagiarism in love and knowledge
Your hair stands on end