My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.
Her hands asleep beside her.
Her hair draped on the lawn
like a mantle of cloth.
I give her my troth, for our love is whole
I sing her beauty in my soul

“This was the first time I thought of S— that day. Her music was beautiful, her …”

“The youthful body untouched decays the fastest, for no living hands record its …”

“Mine was the twilight and the morning. Mine was a world of rooftops and love so…”

“Who is better off? The one who writes to revel in the voluptuousness of the lif…”