Art Is Our Defense Against Hysteria And

Pain Wanders Through My Bones Like A Lost Fire

The Indignity Of It!- With Everything Blooming Above Me, Lilies, Pale-pink Cyclamen, Roses, Whole Fields Lovely And Inviolate,- Me Down In The Fetor Of Weeds, Crawling On All Fours, Alive, In A Slippery Grave.

Deep In Their Roots, All Flowers Keep The Light.

The Visible Exhausts Me. I Am Dissolved In Shadow.

Love Begets Love. This Torment Is My Joy.