Have you ever drunk
from the goblet of yourself...

An Old Poem
After forty-eight hours...

If loneliness were a flower,
it would bloom—only to fade...

You, only you
not others...

The horizon is glorious—
unbroken, when your beauty...

We do not need religion;
we have God...

Our countenances—
nothing but impressions...

To my little niece
I miss you from the bottom of my heart...

The most vicious beast—
suspicion, not conviction...

Inner and outer —
without both, no bird takes flight...

To escape death,
there is no choice but to live...

Do you remember our panting in an aquarium,
all wet and sweaty...