“She is so naked and singular
She is the sum of yourself and your dream.
Climb her like a monument, step after step.
She is solid.
As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.

(For My Lover, Returning To His Wife)”

“As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.”

“The moment she was cursed, I lost her. Once it wears off- soon- she will be embarrassed to remember things that she said, things she did, things like this. No matter how solid she feels in my arms, she is made of smoke.”

“My wife was afraid of the dark… then she saw me naked and now she's afraid of the light. ”

“She started off, walking fast, as if the speed of her steps could give form to the things she felt.”

“A CARE
Your shadow –
Looks nothing like you
She said passing me by
I pass her by with no regrets
My shadow is my care –
I said

I’m of Darkness –
And Darkness is of me
If you know the place –
where it comes from?
She looked over her shoulder
Only a man She said
Only man – all over the place
wanders along his own steps”

“Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.”

“It's not my dreams that get me in trouble, it's the things my wife dreams I did… My wife punched me in the middle of the night; I woke up, I was like "Oww! What was that for?" She said "I dreamt you were making out with Faith Hill." I said "I wasn't dreaming anything! Send her over to my dream, we'll both be happy."”

“I know a girl;
She puts the color inside of my world.
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change.
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands.
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me.Fathers, be good to your daughters,
Daughters will love like you do.
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers,
So mothers, be good to your daughters too.”

“There is a fair woman in the west,
who is as bright as sunlight.
She wears a dress of the finest silk
and jewelry shines from her left, her right.
Her face is a charm, so full of grace,
lightly perfuming the breeze.
Climbing upward, she keeps watch for her loved one,
holding her sleeves, she faces the morning sun.
She hovers, she drifts through the sky,
waving her sleeves, she dances,
flies like the wind, like a cloud, in [a] trance.
Every so often, she glances at me,
but for me this beauty is out of reach.
Left alone, I lament my fate.”