“You are a question that I’ll never know the answer to.”

Wisdom is the most expensive thing in existence.

Your pupils expanded like twin universes, engulfing my emptiness.

If the wind itself turned to silk, singing ballads in my lungs, it couldn’t even hope to match the softness of your touch.

Oh, you fool. You turned cold and stopped loving when the world needed it most.

The warmth is spring is near. It smells of hope and cheer. The budding bulbs of daffodils will end the endless fear.

Sunshine comes after rain. Rain comes after sunshine. Joy and sadness remain in an eternal back and forth. Such balance hold the world in place.

I trust the universe. If we exist for each other, time will bring is both back to our beginning.

I sacrificed you for life, hope, optimism. Do you expect me to regret that?

We are gardens. We flourish and grow. Despite the rain, despite the snow.

I’ve learned the difference between being a good person and being a popular.

The hardest goodbyes are the ones you never got to say.

My dearest contradiction. You are soft and obliterating, like the moon’s glare upon a sinner.

I’d prefer to wield a rose than to wield the gun.

We parted sadly, like children in the street on a pleasant june afternoon.

I ache and long and feel in a language older than ours; one without words or phrases, consisting only of melancholy.

Every word I write is crude and weak when it comes to conveying you how much I appreciate you.

I’m from Dallas, Texas, and every time my grandmother would call-she would call me any time of the day-I’d be home answering the phone.

Youre not going to drive me home? I asked. A waste of breath, since i knew her answer. Theres fog. Patchy fog. Vee grinned. Oh, boy. He is so on your mind. Not that i blame you. Personally, im hoping i dream about him tonight.

It made me love talk that sought answers to questions that could help nobody, that could only keep alive in me that enthralling sense of wonder and awe in the face of the drama of human feeling which is hidden by the external drama of life.

One thing that I am sure of, and which I can answer truthfully, is that whatever the contingencies that may arise here, wherever I am there will be no communism.

And I think that’s reflected in the fact that, when we have problems that really are problems of employment, that are really problems of mental health, that are really problems of drugs, our answer is the police.

Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn’t.

Maybe my life isn’t great. We don’t have all the answers. Look at it from my side.

Learning to savor the vertigo of doing without answers or making do with fragmentary ones opens up the pleasures of recognizing and playing with patterns, finding coherence within complexity, sharing within multiplicity.