Poetry Is The Language Of A State

A Throw Of The Dice Will Never Abolish Chance.

A Soul Trembling To Sit By A Hearth So Bright, To Exist Again, It’s Enough If I Borrow From Your Lips The Breath Of My Name You Murmur All Night.

Paint, Not The Thing But The Effect Which It Produces.

It Is The Job Of Poetry To Clean Up Our Word-clogged Reality By Creating Silences Around Things.

Poets Don't Finish Poems, They Abandon Them.