Language Is The Only Homeland.

Consciousness Even In My Sleep Changes Primary Colors. The Features Of My Face Melt Like A Wax Doll In The Fire. And Who Can Consent To See In The Mirror The Mere Face Of Man?

All Was Taken Away From You: White Dresses, Wings, Even Existence.

I Am Not My Own Friend.time Cuts Me In Two.

Even If That Is So, There Will Remain A Word Wakened By Lips That Perish, A Tireless Messenger Who Runs And Runs Through Interstellar Fields, Through The Revolving Galaxies, And Calls Out, Protests, Screams.

Love Means To Look At Yourself The Way One Looks At Distant Things For You Are Only One Thing Among Many.