“I have observed dreams and visions very carefully, and am now certain that the imagination has some way of lighting on the truth that the reason has not, and that its commandments, delivered when the body is still and the reason silent, are the most binding we can ever know.”

But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

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

Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled. Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.

What can be explained is not poetry.

The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood.

Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.

And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.

It seems to me that love, if it is fine, is essentially a discipline.

Love is created and preserved by intellectual analysis, for we love only that which is unique, and it belongs to contemplation, not to action, for we would not change that which we love.

In dreams begins responsibility.

If what I say resonates with you, it’s merely because we’re branches of the same tree.

When two close kindred meet, What better than call a dance?

It seems to me that true love is a discipline.

The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.

only an aching heart Conceives a changeless work of art.

Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.

The night is young we can keep talking till morning but lets change to the body language instead.

I can feel you in every part of my body. I do not know how you do it, that you still linger deep inside of my veins bones DNA without even being beside me. But you do and I love that.

My body tells all the secrets my mind likes to keep. Only those who are fluent in my language will know the words I long to speak.

My body tells all the secrets my mind likes to keep. Only those who are fluent in my language will know the words I long to speak.

They fear; Fragile feminine body with a rigid sense of integrity.

When my body dies one day or the next, I drift away from it, merge with the air, and with a divine timing I travel back into another human form and continue to discover the life I am.

Write your lustful words with the invisible ink of your tongue upon every part of my body, until my mouth begins to moan every single letter in poetry.

Be proud of a body that bares the burden of being buried only to bloom.