she smelled like white roses and felt as fragile and satiny as her dress.

antlers hung on the wall, you killed them all.

you’ve got blood on your mind and on your hands, i can’t be what you need, i’ve given all i had.

my only love sprung from my only hate.

i don’t know when you got taller, see our reflection in the water.

each of us is born clean. i feel fortunate that i sullied my life with my own two hands. the lives of most are dirtied by the hands of others.

the air smells like rain and you’ve started to forget about me.

you lost all interest in this world. you were disappointed and discouraged, and lost interest in everything. so you abandoned your physical body. you went to a world apart and you’re living a different kind of life there. in a world that’s inside you.

i studied them and tried to mimic their ease.

nothing happened to me. i happened.

will you remember that i existed, and that i stood next to you here like this?

i don’t feel particularly proud of myself. but when i walk alone in the woods or lie in the meadows, all is well.

no one sings as purely as those who inhabit the deepest hell—what we take to be the song of angels is their song.

damn your wife, i’d be your mistress just to have you around.

he is half of my soul, as the poets say.

i am half agony, half hope. i have loved none but you.

i warn you, babe, each night, as sure as you’re born, you’ll hear me howling outside your door. don’t you hear me howling, babe?

the stars and the moon impassive, undisturbed, eternal. a little of their impassivity flows into me.

a woman will return, looking for the girl she was.