Poems are conceived the way we are. They grow out of wild emotions, macerate for a while in their warm, thick juice... until your body cannot bear it any longer and you must push them out into words.

I gave birth painfully first, to still-born things. I gave birth to foetuses... Then one day I tripped, fell, and gave life to Tears, Love, Desire and Angry Poundings.

My poems tell the journey of a woman stumbling, struggling to stand back up and find her voice, but falling in love and hoping, hoping, with all her guts.