I Love All Things, Not

Love Is The Mystery Of Water And A Star.

I Do Not Love You-except Because I Love You; I Go From Loving To Not Loving You, From Waiting To Not Waiting For You My Heart Moves From The Cold Into The Fire.

It Was At That Age That Poetry Came In Search Of Me.

I Don't Want To Go On Being A Root In The Dark, Vacillating, Stretched Out, Shivering With Sleep, Downward, In The Soaked Guts Of The Earth, Absorbing And Thinking, Eating Each Day.

Don't Leave Me, Even For An Hour, Because Then The Little Drops Of Anguish Will All Run Together, The Smoke That Roams Looking For A Home Will Drift Into Me, Choking My Lost Heart.