I was nearly killed here, one night in February.
My car shivered, and slewed sideways on the ice,
right across into the other lane. The slur of traffic
came at me with their lights.
I I wrote to you so cautiously. But what I couldn’t say filled and grew like a hot-air balloon and finally floated away through the night sky. II Now my letter is with the censor. He lights his lamp.
Throughout those dismal months my life was only sparked alight when I made love to you. As the firefly ignites and fades, ignites and fades, we follow the flashes of its flight in the dark among the olive trees. Throughout those dismal months, my …
The executioner is dangerous when he’s bored. The burning heaven coils. Knocking is heard from cell to cell and space streams up out of the ground frost. Some of the stones shine like full moons.