the intensityin your eyesburns my penas i write.

i writebecauseit is the only wayi can reach you.

Have they known scorn like youFive cellars down?

Darkness does not age; nothing is always nothing

May youalways haveopenbreezy spacesin your mind.

...soy un fue y un será y un es cansado...

SPOILER ALERT: EVERYONE FALLS IN LOVE & DIES!

It’s not easy to write a poem about a poem.

Either you will be you or you will not be at all.

Christ did not ask or want to be what he was not.

Eternity is a glorious word, but eternity is ice.

Even if you are alone you wage war with yourself.

Poetry will die when love and pain cease to exist.

The morning slathers its whateveracross the thing.

Poets are always taking the weather so personally.