The Art Of Losing Isn't Hard To

Heaven Is Not Like Flying Or Swimming, But Has Something To Do With Blackness And A Strong Glare.

All The Untidyactivity Continues, Awful But Cheerful.

But He Sleeps On The Top Of His Mast With His Eyes Closed Tight. The Gull Inquired Into His Dream, Which Was, "i Must Not Fall. The Spangled Sea Below Wants Me To Fall. It Is Hard As Diamonds; It Wants To Destroy Us All.

Close, Close All Night The Lovers Keep. They Turn Together In Their Sleep, Close As Two Pages In A Book That Read Each Other In The Dark. Each Knows All The Other Knows, Learned By Heart From Head To Toes.

The Whole Shadow Of Man Is Only As Big As His Hat.