When I sleepwalk into your room, and pick you up, and hold you up 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 (1973). “The Book of Nightmares”, p.49, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt