Somewhere in the night$$$ a human being is drowning.

We shed skins in life$$$ to keep living.

The noblest pleasure is the joy of understanding.

I want to summon the eyes and hidden mouths of stone and light and water to testify against you.

I'm just waiting for the miracle to come.

Blessed are you who circled desire with a blade$$$ and the garden with fiery swords$$$ and heaven and earth with a word.

I'll be marching through the morning$$$ marching through the night$$$moving 'cross the borders of my secret life.

When you're not feeling holy$$$ your loneliness says that you've sinned.

You go your way$$$ I'll go your way too.

Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well$$$ poetry is just the ash.