The Work Of The World Is Common

Work Is Its Own Cure. You Have To Like It Better Than Being Loved.

I Think We Validate Our Lives Through Our Actions.

I Stayed Under The Moon Too Long.i Am Silvered With Lust.dreams Flick Like Minnows Through My Eyes.my Voice Is Trees Tossing In The Wind.i Loose Myself Like A Flock Of Blackbirdsstorming Into Your Face.my Lightest Touch Leaves Blue Prints,bruises On Your Mind.desire Sandpapers Your Skinso Thin I Read The Veins And Arteriesmaps Of Routes I Will Traveltill I Lodge In Your Spine.the Night Is Our Fur.we Curl Inside It Licking.

This Life Is A War We Are Not Yet Winning For Our Daughters' Children. Don't Do Your Enemies' Work For Them. Finish Your Own.

Memory In Greek Mythology Is The Mother Of The Muses, And It Is So For Me. Both Personal And Societal Memory Move Me Strongly, And That Is One Of The Sources Of My Writing.