...became A Woman Who Learned Her Own

I Will Be Steel! I Will Build A Steel Bridge Over My Need! I Will Build A Bomb Shelter Over My Heart! But My Future Is A Secret. It Is As Shy As A Mole.

Images Are The Heart Of Poetry ... You're Not A Poet Without Imagery.

I Am A Collection Of Dismantled Almosts.

Nature Is Full Of Teeth That Come In One By One, Then Decay, Fall Out.

My Objects Dream And Wear New Costumes, Compelled To, It Seems, By All The Words In My Hands And The Sea That Bangs In My Throat.