When I was young,I sorted postage stamps.I locked away in albumsdifferent countries,famous people,migratory birds.Now I sort myselfthrough summer migrations.I sentence myself to life in prison,in the photographs I takewith my cell phone.
Of all those I have known, the wisest, the most beautiful, the most capricious, the most wanton, is the one I still sleep with: The Word
A breeze blows, and shakes the leaf, / Rocks a wave across the sea.
If you did not know that He is watching you, If you were not certain of the breathing of the stars Behind the great clouds, If you did not hear His waiting smile Behind…
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