Always Learn Poems By Heart. They Have

Just Because A Poet Said Something Didn’t Mean It Was True, Only That It Sounded Good.

That Was What She Really Wanted. To Forget So Thoroughly She'd Never Have Another Memory Again, The Bitter So Bitter You Gave Up The Sweet.

Beauty Was Empty As A Gourd, Vain As A Parakeet. But It Had Power. It Smelled Of Musk And Oranges And Made You Close Your Eyes In A Prayer.

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

I Imagined My Soul Taking In These Words Like Silicated Water In The Petrified Forest, Turning My Wood To Patterned Agate. I Liked It When My Mother Shaped Me This Way. I Thought Clay Must Feel Happy In The Good Potter's Hand.