Art Is Our Defense Against Hysteria And

The Visible Exhausts Me. I Am Dissolved In Shadow.

Death Was Not. I Lived In A Simple Drowse:hands And Hair Moved Through A Dream Of Wakening Blossoms.rain Sweetened The Cave And The Dove Still Called;the Flowers Leaned On Themselves, The Flowers In Hollows;and Love, Love Sang Toward.

(i Measure Time By How A Body Sways.)

Pain Wanders Through My Bones Like A Lost Fire

How Terrible The Need For God.