Spiritual eroticism

More and more I run into things that break my heart.

I am just as liable to honor what's stopping me from doing something as much as I am to honor what makes me start.

The idea that the beginnings of things are stripped from things against their will, either by slow death or rape, so that their original beauty and innocence is destroyed forever, can't be
overcome.

I lie beside a green lake, listening to whatever happened to The Cocteau Twins.

My muse is a woman, a far better person than I am, who says things to me like, "I'm your muse, why don't you listen to me, I'm a much better person."