at night too, she puzzled the mystery of her desperate need of kindness. as others prayed for handsomeness in a lover, or for wealth, or for power, or for poetry, she had prayed fervently: let him be kind.

i must warn you, you must handle me delicately: i am covered with a mantle of iridescence as easily destroyed as dust flowers, and although i am quite willing to be arrested, if you handle me roughly you will lose much of the evidence.

her beauty shined in the moonlight, her smile was brighter than the sun. they were in love like two playful doves, young and fawn eyed. aphrodite smiled at their kiss, and she giggled at their touch.

and now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been.

i really do not know how i could confess my love to you. i fear that the shadow of astonishment would befall your beautiful eyes of dawn .. i have said it all. and then, just like a swan, i hide my head under my wing.

take me, take me in your arms and comfort me. for so light was the step in the brushwood, so purple were the flowers. so lovely the eyes’ teardrop ..

for i pray that god will digest me,

she’s so pretty, it makes my bones ache. the other day, she smiled at me and i think i stopped breathing. i think she broke me a little. my chest aches around her. i feel like i’m swallowing dying stars.

the angels all have tired mouths and luminous, illimitable souls; and a longing (as if for sin) trembles at times through their dreams.

reacquaint yourself with desire and all her slender hands. bear beauty for as long as you are able, & if you spot a stunning warbler glowing like a prism, remind yourself—joy is not a trick.

i like my body when it is with your body. muscles better & nerves more. i like to feel the spine of your body & its bones, & the trembling–firm–smoothness, & which i will again & again & again kiss. i like kissing this & that of you.

you will freeze in place if you remain this way. you must not, my dear. you have to move.

it's may that ruins me and september too, those two sentinels of summer: promise and nostalgia.

you are worthy of all the beauty and goodness this world has to offer, & i will hold you in my heart & prayers, forever.

my poor lover, you were put into jail only because you were too kindhearted. i've been trying to clear your name.