Then You'll Feel Your Cheek Scratched... A

You Feel On Your Lips A Kiss Fluttering, A Tiny Scrap Of Life.

I Wrote Silences; Nights; I Recorded The Unnameable.

...these Poets Here, You See, They Are Not Of This World:let Them Live Their Strange Life; Let Them Be Cold And Hungry, Let Them Run, Love And Sing: They Are As Rich As Jacques Coeur, All These Silly Children, For They Have Their Souls Full Of Rhymes, Rhymes Which Laugh And Cry, Which Make Us Laugh Or Cry: Let Them Live: God Blesses All The Merciful: And The World Blesses The Poets.

He Would Say, "how Funny It Will All Seem, All You've Gone Through, When I'm Not Here Anymore, When You No Longer Feel My Arms Around Your Shoulders, Nor My Heart Beneath You, Nor This Mouth On Your Eyes, Because I Will Have To Go Away Some Day, Far Away..." And In That Instant I Could Feel Myself With Him Gone, Dizzy With Fear, Sinking Down Into The Most Horrible Blackness: Into Death.

I May Die Of Earthly Love, Or Of Devotion.