“I offer you what I have myPoverty”

“Tell me what you see vanishing and I will tell you who you are”

“So this is what I amPondering his eyes that could notConceive that I was a creature to run fromI who have always believed too much in words”

“I had hardly begun to readI asked how can you ever be surethat what you write is reallyany good at all and he said you can'tyou can't you can never be sureyou die without knowingwhether anything you wrote was any goodif you have to be sure don't write”

“Through all of youth I was looking for youwithout knowing what I was looking for”

“A BIRTHDAY Something continues and I don't know what to call itthough the language is full of suggestionsin the way of languagebut they are all anonymousand it's almost your birthday music next to my bonesthese nights we hear the horses running in the rainit stops and the moon comes out and we are still herethe leaks in the roof go on dripping after the rain has passedsmell of ginger flowers slips through the dark housedown near the sea the slow heart of the beacon flashesthe long way to you is still tied to me but it brought me to youI keep wanting to give you what is already yoursit is the morning of the mornings togetherbreath of summer oh my found onethe sleep in the same current and each waking to youwhen I open my eyes you are what I wanted to see.”

“My words are the garment of what I shall never be Like the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy.”