We felt the unity of the most positive energy

I have only to contemplate myself; man comes from nothing, passes through time, and disappears forever in the bosom of God. He is seen but for a moment wandering on the verge of two abysses, and then is lost. If man were wholly ignorant of himself he would have no poetry in him, for one cannot describe what one does not conceive. If he saw himself clearly, his imagination would remain idle and would have nothing to add to the picture. But the nature of man is sufficiently revealed for him to know something of himself and sufficiently veiled to leave much impenetrable darkness, a darkness in which he ever gropes, forever in vain, trying to understand himself.

A wind starts to blow, without feelings, A song falls in love, without singing, A life will begin in melodies of the strings, May you find all pleasure of the light, God bless, Warrior of Light!

Night. It has two hands I can use. Its fingers in a plum too ripe not to split. I had to split it. It was so much itself—bloody flesh, wild purple skin. A fistful so lush it was almost imaginary,  smelling of love, it didn’t matter whose.

I am in the mood to dissolve in the sky.