I am selfish, private and easily bored. Will this be a problem?
I never wish to be easily defined. I’d rather float over other people’s minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.
You’ll meet her, she’s very pretty, even though sometimes she’s sad for many days at a time. You’ll see, when she smiles, you’ll love her.
I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.
There’s two kinds of women—those you write poems about and those you don’t.