We Bear The Sole, Relentless

Someone Will Ask Later, Sometimes Searching For A Name, His Own Or Someone's Else's Why I Neglected His Sadness Or His Love... But I Didn't Have Enough Time Or Ink For Everyone. Or Maybe It Was The Strain Of The City, Of Time The Cold Heart Of The Clocks.

Every Day You Play With The Light Of The Universe.

I Love All Things, Not Only The Grand But The Infinitely Small: Thimble, Spurs, Plates, Flower Vases.

I Want To Eat The Sunbeam Flaring In Your Lovely Body... And I Pace Around Hungry, Sniffing The Twilight, Hunting For You, For Your Hot Heart, Like A Puma In The Barrens Of Quitratue.

I No Longer Love Her, That's Certain, But Maybe I Love Her. Love Is So Short, Forgetting Is So Long.