Elle

The practice of generosity frees us from the sense of isolation that arises from clinging and attachment.

The world comes into the poem, The poem comes into the world.  Reciprocity—it all comes down To that. As with lovers: When it’s right you can’t say Who is kissing whom.

Such wounds to the heart will probably never heal. But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.

In my memory, it doesn’t end. We just stay there, looking at each other, forever.

I like people who talk to themselves interminably; I like them, for they are double. They are here and elsewhere.

It’s spring, you’re young, you’re lovely, you have a right to be happy. Come back into the world.

My hand fits into your hand like it was always supposed to be there.

“We are all different. Don’t judge, understand instead.”