Thou hast exalted my thoughts to the rank, the station of dreams, in whose apparent wilderness, having discerned such remarkable patterns...

Yes, I’ve got lemon-lime, Isakov, dewdrops; I’ve shade o’er my Soul. And yet I am restlessly alive, though I have dreamt of peace like...

You see, I hope to preserve a moment in this way; though you are fleeting, love, how you have stayed with my joy, calm, pain, I hold you...

Now Fall is climbing the trees, browning their chests with rust, killing their leaves off by the baleful with each shrivelling hour that...

that if I had a wish, I’d wish for us to be stranded so long together, we’d come back reeking of blackberries, that we’d have twigs in...

No body’s perfect, save thine dressed in blood, and wrapped about the head by shawl of silk. “Impostor of the Lord,” they label you,...