“SeparationYour absence has gone through meLike thread through a needle.Everything I do is stitched with its color.”W.S. Merwin
“My words are the garment of what I shall never beLike the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy.”W.S. Merwin Source: The Lice
“Sitting over wordsVery late I have heard a kind of whispered sighingNot farLike a night wind in pines or like the sea in the darkThe echo of everything that has everBeen spokenStill spinning its one syllableBetween the earth and silence”W.S. Merwin