Love: A Burnt Match Skating In A

Let My Lusts Be My Ruin, Then, Since All Else Is A Fake And A Mockery.

Stars Scribble On Our Eyes The Frosty Sagas, The Gleaming Cantos Of Unvanquished Space. (cape Hatteras

Permit Me Voyage, Love, Into Your Hands.

It Has Taken A Great Deal Of Energy, Which Has Not Been So Difficult To Summon As The Necessary Patience To Wait, Simply Wait Much Of The Time - Until My Instincts Assured Me That I Had Assembled My Materials In Proper Order For A Final Welding Into Their Natural Form.

And So She Comes To Dream Herself The Tree, The Wind Possessing Her, Weaving Her Young Veins, Holding Her To The Sky And Its Quick Blue, Drowning The Fever Of Her Hands In Sunlight. She Has No Memory, Nor Fear, Nor Hope Beyond The Grass And Shadows At Her Feet.