you are the only woman I have ever met who I would want to be in a little house with, do you see? Other women make me want to get on boats and run away. You, you make me want to stay somewhere, so that I can see your face everyday. So that I can hold you everyday and watch you grow older. You make me want to be an adult man. You make me want to settle down.

I sat up in the strange bed fearing it had been a dream, afraid I would never see her again. Not because I wanted anything from her, only her presence. The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.

Listen.
Do you see
that you can’t hear snowfall?
Look.
Do you sense
that you can’t see love?
Touch.
Do you grasp
that you can’t catch poems?
Try.
Smell this glass.
Go on taste this cloud.
These material senses won’t get you far until
you feel
the velvet glove caress your soul.

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