Only In Books The Flat And Final

Only One Ship Is Seeking Us, A Black-sailed Unfamiliar, Towing At Her Backa Huge And Birdless Silence. In Her Wakeno Waters Breed Or Break.

All The Unhurried Day / Your Mind Lay Open Like A Drawer Of Knives.

On Me Your Voice Falls As They Say Love Should, Like An Enormous Yes.

What Are Days For? Days Are Where We Live.

It Becomes Still More Difficult To Find
words At Once True And Kind,
or Not Untrue And Not Unkind.