What Can I Say Without Touching The

I'm Not Me But Living Matter Fermenting And Forming Its Own Shapes In The Fruitfulness Of Every Day.

While I'm Writing, I'm Far Away; And When I Come Back, I've Gone.

Love! Love Until The Night Collapses!

Hands Make The World Each Day.

When I Sleep Every Night, What Am I Called Or Not Called? And When I Wake, Who Am I If I Was Not I While I Slept?