The beat of sleep is all my mind. I am my rhyme. l wind the ball deeper and deeper in the maze to find the meeting of the ways, to find before the hero finds the prisoner of the Labyrinth, the horn-crowned horror at the end of all the corridors, my friend.… Leer más
“Soñar que el amor nos va a salvar, a solucionar nuestros problemas o proveer de un estado de felicidad o seguridad solo nos mantiene atrapadas en una fantasía que menoscaba el verdadero poder del amor, que es su capacidad de transformarnos”
This, no song of an ingénue, This, no ballad of innocence; This, the rhyme of a lady who Followed ever her natural bents. This, a solo of sapience, This, a chantey of sophistry, This, the sum of experiments,— I loved them until they loved me.
Decked in garments of sable hue, Daubed with ashes of myriad Lents, Wearing shower bouquets of rue, Walk I ever in penitence.… Leer más
All praise the midweek market, the first-of-the-season sexy zucchinis gazing up from their crowded boxes
All praise the cherries, their tight red bellies, the sweet, slender stems and the pit, ah the pit, to be nursed in the mouth, cajoled to give up its last sweet hold, praise