Don't Be The Rider Who Gallops All

Everything Is Emptiness. Everything Else, Accidental. Emptiness Brings Peace To Your Loving. Everything Else, Disease. In This World Of Trickery, Emptiness Is What Your Soul Wants.

Because Of Your Love I Have Broken With My Past

The Meaning Of Poetry Has No Sureness Of Direction; Is Like The Sling, It Is Not Under Control.

The Only Way To Measure A Lover Is By The Grandeur Of The Beloved.

I Do Not Know Who Lives Here In My Chest, Or Why The Smile Comes. I Am Not Myself, More The Bare Green Knob Of A Rose That Lost Every Leaf And Petal To The Morning Wind.