What’s wrong is that every morning and every night, I lie in bed wondering why you’re not beside me.
Ten Tiny BreathsIt is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour which the night fastens to all timetables.
Twenty Love Poems and a Song of DespairI grow weary of the love That lasts for a night When it should be there The next sunrise
Psychaotic: See The World In Red And BlackPractically every guy is the perfect guy the first night, so why ever bother with a second?
The Painting of Porcupine CityIf a dream stubbornly returns from seemingly weightless nights; then give him your trust.
From Poet's HandWhen I see a beautiful shell like that I can't help feeling a regret about what's inside it.
Tender Is the Night