The Dearest Ones Of Time, The Strongest

March Is The Month Of Expectation, The Things We Do Not Know, The Persons Of Prognostication Are Coming Now. We Try To Sham Becoming Firmness, But Pompous Joy Betrays Us, As His First Betrothal Betrays A Boy.

I See Thee Better In The Dark I Do Not Need A Light.

Love Is Everything. And That's All We Know About It.

It Sounded As If The Streets Were Running, And Then The Streets Stood Still.

If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry.