If Technique Is Of No

The Sea Is A Collector, Quick To Return A Rapacious Look.

The Sweet Air Coming Into Your House On A Fine Day, From Water Etched With Waves As Formal As The Scales On A Fish.

All Are / Naked, None Is Safe.

One Writes Because One Has A Burning Desire To Objectify What It Is Indispensable To One's Happiness To Express.

The Weak Overcomes Its/ Menace, The Strong Over-/comes Itself.