Desire Is No Light Thing.

I Am A Drop Of Gold He Would Say I Am Molten Matter Returned From The Core Of Earth To Tell You Interior Things-

Prowling The Meanings Of A Word, Prowling The History Of A Person, No Use Expecting A Flood Of Light. Human Words Have No Main Switch. But All Those Little Kidnaps In The Dark. And Then The Luminous, Big, Shivering, Discandied, Unrepentant, Barking Web Of Them That Hangs In Your Mind When You Turn Back To The Page You Were Trying To Translate.

Give Me A World, You Have Taken The World I Was.

The Words We Read And Words We Write Never Say Exactly What We Mean. The People We Love Are Never Just As We Desire Them. The Two Symbola Never Perfectly Match. Eros Is In Between.

Here We Go Mother On The Shipless Ocean. Pity Us, Pity The Ocean, Here We Go.