Finding yourself with your loves gives blood to existence, looking at one another seeing the universe.

The only thing I know about me is that it is you.

lips, red, ruby, like the blood, like the voice.

Music repairs us when it breaks the silence.

Wait for it to rain and then go out into the street.

She is his word his love she brings the blood back to his lips.

Everything is blood and vines. The mark of another day of revolving the body exact And the sky is ours our hope our blue our silence our throat of burning wildflowers.

Hit me with spit on the wounds.

The edge of the sea masks a clock that marks the waves.

Loving you is kissing the night, exposing the scars, words in flames, for every drop and for every life.

free fall to your quite smile to capture you and you propel me to death, all that we write destroys then heals

But what minutes! Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day.

Are you imperfect, romantically irrational, ridiculously fearless, and utterly illogical? You're my ideal reader, friend, partner. I'm your fan.

Every disappointment is a spiritual awakening.

Optimism and self-pity are the positive and negative poles of modern cowardice.

When I was born, my father wanted to drown me, but my mother persuaded him to let me live in disguise, to see if I could bring any wealth to the household.

The past is only the future with the lights on

Any who love Jesus will love others much more.

Why, flowers are violent, cruel, terrible and splendid... like love!

With wild eyes that had seen freedom.

Avoid doing what you would blame others for doing.