I Am Torn In Two But I

You Lay, A Small Knuckle On My White Bed; Lay, That Fist Like A Snail, Small And Strong At My Breast. Your Lips Are Animals; You Are Fed With Love. At First, Hunger Is Not Wrong.

O Starry Night, This Is How I Want To Die

I Burn The Way Money Burns.

The Place I Live In Is A Kind Of Maze And I Keep Seeking The Exit Or The Home.

Everyone Has Left Me Except My Muse, That Good Nurse. She Stays In My Hand, A Mild White Mouse.