All Lovers Live By Longing, And Endure:

Those Who Are Willing To Be Vulnerable Move Among Mysteries.

So Much Of Adolescence Is An Ill-defined Dying, An Intolerable Waiting, A Longing For Another Place And Time, Another Condition.

In A Dark Time, The Mind Begins To See.

The Mind Enters Itself, And God The Mind, And One Is One, Free In The Tearing Wind.

I Bleed My Bones, Their Marrow To Bestowupon That God Who Knows What I Would Know.