Bobbing in the waters of the womb, little godhead, ten toes, ten fing… & infinite hope, sails upside down through the worl… My bones, I know, are only a cage

I am happiest near the ocean, where the changing light reminds me of my death & the fact that it need not 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

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

I try to keep falling in love if only to keep death at bay.

I am the Sphinx. I am the woman buried in sand up to her chin. I am waiting for an archaeologist to unearth me,

Most beautiful of poisons, border-plant, wearing your small green cowl, little friar, little murderer, aconitine flows

If it is impossible to promise absolute fidelity, this is because we learn so much geography from the shifting of one body

A man so sick that the sexual soup cannot save him - the chicken soup of sex which cures everything: tossed mane of noodles,

In Autumn, as in Spring, the sap flows, the sap wishes to race against heartbeats

My broom with its tufts of roses beckoning at the black, with its crown of thistles, prickling the sky,

We have a small sculpture of H… Nothing would surprise him. The beast in the jungle was what h… Edith Wharton’s obfuscating older… He fled the demons

You take me to the restaurant wher… plays God over a fish tank. The f… pace their green cage, waiting to… out of an element. Who knows what… There are thirteen in a tank meant