IF YOU FORGET ME I want to know one thing. You know how this is: If I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. THE VOW When the lover goes, the vow though broken remains, that trace of eternity love brings down among us stays, to give dignity to the suffering and to intensify it. If these mean anything, please comment me.