I hear you will not fall in love w… because I come without a guarantee… because someday I may depart at wh… and leave you desolate, abandoned,… If that’s the case, what use to be…

I want to understand the steep thi… that climbs ladders in your throat… I can’t make sense of you. Everywhere I look you’re there— a vast landmark, a volcano

She leaps into the alien heart of the passerby, the drunk, the girl who spouts Freudian talk over Szechuan food. She is part herself,

And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy. —William Blake Because I would not admit that I had nurtured

For Naomi Lazard Sometimes I can’t wait until I… —Naomi Lazard My friends are tired. The ones who are married are tired

I sit at home at my desk alone as I used to do on many sunday afternoons when you came back to me,

We sit on a rock to allow our souls to catch up with us. We have been traveling a long time.

It used to be hard for women, snowed in their white lives, white lies, to write books

The man under the bed The man who has been there for yea… The man who waits for my floating… The man who is silent as dustballs… The man whose breath is the breath…

Broken ivories playing the blue piano of the sea. We have come

The old poet with his face full of lines, with iambs jumping in his hair lik… with all the revisions of his body unsaying him,

After the first astounding rush, after the weeks at the lake, the crystal, the clouds, the water… the snow breaking under our boots… & the long mornings in bed. .…

He says he is a perfect poet. He lives alone, with his perfect m… & sometimes they don’t even sp… So perfectly do they ‘communicate.… He lives alone, his greatest pleas…