One Day, A Leopard Stalked Into The

My 'fear' Is My Substance, And Probably The Best Part Of Me.

In A Way, You Are Poetry Material; You Are Full Of Cloudy Subtleties I Am Willing To Spend A Lifetime Figuring Out. Words Burst In Your Essence And You Carry Their Dust In The Pores Of Your Ethereal Individuality.

You Are At Once Both The Quiet And The Confusion Of My Heart.

Some Books Seem Like A Key To Unfamiliar Rooms In One’s Own Castle.

The True Word Leads; The Untrue Misleads.