Sometimes I am grand fickleness, because I am not real, although I have a sense that
I’m entertaining and there are things to be learned from the clown.

I’ve grown tired of the Sun, because I don’t want to rise or fall, no not at all;
I just want to be

and if ever I would be loved
I’d feel steady and I’d feel like I could close my eyes
and still feel flashes of love, and like flutters of the butterfly

you’d give me an embrace that would save me
like I could be love in the world with you
not staggering when I am crying, but just
dancing in a conversation that tells all

— Douglas Gilbert