The Front Windows As Are The Watchmen

I Cannot Be Known Better Than You Know Me Your Eyes In Which We Sleep We Together Have Made For My Man’s Gleam A Better Fate Than For The Common Nights Your Eyes In Which I Travel Have Given To Signs Along The Roads A Meaning Alien To The Earth In Your Eyes Who Reveal To Us Our Endless Solitude Are No Longer What They Thought Themselves To Be You Cannot Be Known Better Than I Know You.

The Language Of My Love Does Not Belong To Human Language, My Human Body Does Not Touch The Flesh Of My Love.

We Want To Be, When We Are Young, A Little Man. I Would Like To Be A Big Child, Stronger And Fairer Than A Man, And More Lucid Than A Child.

A Woman Is More Beautiful Than The World In Which I Live; And So I Close My Eyes.

Even When We Sleep We Watch Over One Another.