I had a dream, said he I dreamt too, that dream My nightmares are full of his personages One part of my shoulder is his ten years Would we call this a sharing?
Blue used to be my favorite color. Since I have started to paint, it has shown itself as the most difficult color to work with. Blue is unmagical. It is just blue; there are no nuances, no extensions. Rarely do figures
I know that your intelligence seeks some sort of fixity I am sorry for not being able to offer that My minds swirl and swirl into colours unknown to you Simple life as we read in stories and poems are
There is a box In the box there is a language In the language we bow In the language we shake hands In the language we wave hands In the language we proclaim our love In the language we make
You errant soul will always stay in your bed You are an intelligence wrapped in purple paper I might not be able to talk with you For you are so much better than I I am changing endlessly I am