i am permanentlytannedin the summer of poetry.

Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.

their heart grew coldthey let their wings down

I had embraced you...long before i hugged you.

Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it

There is another world, and it is in this one.

It is at the edge of the petal that love waits

Stasis in darkness.Then the substanceless blue

Poets should be crazy-but only in their poems.

To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.

Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw...

I love being able to see an un-written future.

Careful.The fall is quick,steep,and permanent.

You cannot hear a poem without it changing you

Valentine's Day is the poet's holiday.