You Shall Create Beauty Not To Excite

Now I Am Nothing But A Veil; All My Body Is A Veil Beneath Which A Child Sleeps.

I Have All That I Lost And I Go Carrying My Childhood Like A Favorite Flower That Perfumes My Hand.

In The Secret Of Night, My Prayer Climbs Like The Liana, My Prayer Is, And I Am Not. It Grows, And I Perish. I Have Only My Hard Breath, My Reason And My Madness. I Cling To The Vine Of My Prayer. I Tend It At The Root Of The Stalk Of Night.

Love That Stammers, That Stutters, Is Apt To Be The Love That Loves Best.

Let The Earth Look At Me, And Bless Me, For Now I Am Fecund And Sacred, Like The Palms And The Furrows.