“When I walkI part the airand alwaysthe air moves into fill the spaceswhere my body's been.”

“Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.There is no happiness like mine.I have been eating poetry.”

“It came to my house.It sat on my shoulders.Your shadow is yours. I told it so. I said it was yours.I have carried it with me too long. I give it back.”

“One clear night while the others slept, I climbedthe stairs to the roof of the house and under a skystrewn with stars I gazed at the sea, at the spread of it,the rolling crests of it raked by the wind, becominglike bits of lace tossed in the air. I stood in the longwhispering night, waiting for something, a sign, the approachof a distant light, and I imagined you coming closer,the dark waves of your hair mingling with the sea,and the dark became desire, and desire the arriving light.The nearness, the momentary warmth of you as I stoodon that lonely height watching the slow swells of the seabreak on the shore and turn briefly into glass and disappear...Why did I believe you would come out of nowhere? Why with allthat the world offers would you come only because I was here?”

“Each moment is a placeyou've never been.”

“There is no happiness like mine.I have been eating poetry.”

“The Coming of LightEven this late it happens:the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air.Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.”