The exceeding brightness of this early sun
Makes me conceive how dark I have become.

It's so fucking controlled. Poetry must not become a hospital.

Money is a kind of poetry.

That is what you meant to me: a light that shone through the darkness.” (Your smile, p. 56)

A poem is a meteor.

Shadow is ever besieged, for that is its nature. Whilst darkness devours, and light steals. And so one sees shadow ever retreat to hidden places, only to return in the wake of the war between dark and light.