I Don't Think In Any Language. I

Some Might Think That The Creativity, Imagination, And Flights Of Fancy That Give My Life Meaning Are Insanity.

I Loved You. I Was A Pentapod Monster, But I Loved You. I Was Despicable And Brutal, And Turpid, And Everything, Mais Je T’aimais, Je T’aimais!

I Still Dwelled Deep In My Elected Paradise--a Paradise Whose Skies Were The Color Of Hell-flames--but Still A Paradise.

I Talk In A Daze, I Walk In A Maze I Cannot Get Out, Said The Starling

Do What Only A True Artist Can Do ... Pounce Upon The Forgotten Butterfly Of Revelation