At Six I Lived In A Graveyard

I Think Of Myself As Writing For One Person, That One Perfect Reader Who Understands And Loves.

I Am A Collection Of Dismantled Almosts.

I Would Like To Think That No One Would Die Anymore If We All Believed In Daisies But The Worms Know Better, Don't They? They Slide Into The Ear Of A Corpse And Listen To His Great Sigh.

And What Of The Dead? They Lie Without Shoes In The Stone Boats. They Are More Like Stone Than The Sea Would Be If It Stopped. They Refuse To Be Blessed, Throat, Eye And Knucklebone.

What A Lay Me Down This Is With Two Pink, Two Orange, Two Green, Two White Goodnights.