Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tips of my words.
幸福!它那对死亡来说甜蜜的牙齿,在鸡鸣时警告我——在晨祷时,在基督降临的歌声中——在最黑暗的城市里。