Love Is Not A Desire For Beauty;

Because Two Bodies, Naked And Entwined, Leap Over Time, They Are Invulnerable, Nothing Can Touch Them, They Return To The Source. There Is No You, No I, No Tomorrow, No Yesterday, No Names, The Truth Of Two In A Single Body, A Single Soul, Oh Total Being.

Surrealism Is Not A School Of Poetry But A Movement Of Liberation... A Way Of Rediscovering The Language Of Innocence, A Renewal Of The Primordial Pact, Poetry Is The Basic Text, The Foundation Of The Human Order. Surrealism Is Revolutionary Because It Is A Return To The Beginning Of All Beginnings.

It Is The Revolution, The Magical Word, The Word That Is Going To Change Everything, That Is Going To Bring Us Immense Delight And A Quick Death.

My Body, Plowed By Your Body, Will Turn Into A Field Where One Is Sown And A Hundred Reaped.

With Great Difficulty Advancing By Millimeters Each Year, I Carve A Road Out Of The Rock. For Millenniums My Teeth Have Wasted And My Nails Broken To Get There, To The Other Side, To The Light And The Open Air. And Now That My Hands Bleed And My Teeth Tremble, Unsure In A Cavity Cracked By Thirst And Dust, I Pause And Contemplate My Work. I Have Spent The Second Part Of My Life Breaking The Stones, Drilling The Walls, Smashing The Doors, Removing The Obstacles I Placed Between The Light And Myself In The First Part Of My Life.