-
With the poet, not so. One learns
-
Again I reply to the triple winds
-
If we stayed with each other long enough
-
Sillage is the scent following after
-
We cling to a vine
-
We’re walking in our sleep
-
I have nothing but exclamation points
-
Our business
-
Perhaps this music you are listening to is lovelier
-
We cannot know the indescribable face
