Of Course The New Testament Is Very

Death, I Need My Little Addiction To You. I Need That Tiny Voice Who, Even As I Rise From The Sea, All Woman, All There, Says Kill Me, Kill Me.

Inside Many Of Us Is A Small Old Man Who Wants To Get Out.

When Someone Kisses Someone Or Flushes The Toilet It Is My Other Who Sits In A Ball And Cries. My Other Beats A Tin Drum In My Heart. My Other Hangs Up Laundry As I Try To Sleep. My Other Cries And Cries And Cries When I Put On A Cocktail Dress.

Rocks Crumble, Make New Forms, Oceans Move The Continents, Mountains Rise Up And Down Like Ghosts Yet All Is Natural, All Is Change.

We Are All Writing God's Poem.