Even So, I Must Admire Your Skill.

It Doesn't Matter Who My Father Was; It Matters Who I Remember He Was.

Talk To Me About Sadness. I Talk About It Too Much In My Own Head But I Never Mind Others Talking About It Either; I Occasionally Feel Like I Tremendously Need Others To Talk About It As Well.

My Heart Is On A Budget. It Keeps Me On The Brink.

One Of My Secret Instructions To Myself As A Poet Is "whatever You Do, Don't Be Boring."

I Love The Word Warm. It Is Almost Unbearable-- So Moist And Breathlike.