"When I sleepwalk into your room, and pick you up, and hold you in the moonlight, you cling to me..."

“When I sleepwalk into your room, and pick you up, and hold you in the moonlight, you cling to me hard, as if clinging could save us.

I think you think I will never die, I think I exude to you the permanence of smoke or stars even as my broken arms heal themselves around you.”

- Galway Kinnell