I Paint My Own Reality.

I Paint Flowers So They Will Not Die.

Can One Invent Verbs? I Want To Tell You One: I Sky You, So My Wings Extend So Large To Love You Without Measure.

Pain, Pleasure And Death Are No More Than A Process For Existence. The Revolutionary Struggle In This Process Is A Doorway Open To Intelligence

I Wanted To Tell You That My Whole Being Opened For You. Since I Fell In Love With You Everything Is Transformed And Is Full Of Beauty... Love Is Like An Aroma, Like A Current, Like Rain.

You Loved A Man With More Hands Than A Parade Of Beggars, And Here You Stand. Heart Like A Four-poster Bed. Heart Like A Canvas. Heart Leaking Something So Strong They Can Smell It In The Street.”