Life Has Puffed And Blown Itself Into

Nobody Has Ever Measured, Not Even Poets, How Much The Heart Can Hold.

One Illusion Is As Good As Another.

I Take A Sun Bath And Listen To The Hours, Formulating, And Disintegrating Under The Pines, And Smell The Resiny Hardihood Of The High Noon Hours. The World Is Lost In A Blue Haze Of Distances, And The Immediate Sleeps In A Thin And Finite Sun.

I Love You, Even If There Isn’t Any Me, Or Any Love, Or Even Any Life. I Love You.

People Are Like Almanacs, Bonnie - You Never Can Find The Information You're Looking For, But The Casual Reading Is Well Worth The Trouble.