He stitched adoration through the cracks in my winter lips.
With each eyelash I find
That I claim as mine,
Fallen upon your face,
I make a wish so fervently
That they will never fall upon another face
“In praising Edgar Allen Poe’s control of the short story, [Charles] Baudelaire wrote:
If the first sentence is not written with the preparation of the final impression in view, the work is a failure from the start. In the whole composition, not a single word must be allowed to slip in that is not loaded with intention, that does not tend, directly or indirectly, to complete the premeditated design.
What Baudelaire was praising was structure. He was saying that each poem, story, or novel has an optimum number of words, an optimum number of pieces of information, that their order must be determined by the writer’s intention, and to go over or under even by one word weakens the whole. In fact, he argued that anything that does not contribute to the whole, detracts from the whole. ‘There are no minutiae in matters of art,’ he said.”
—Stephen Dobyns, from his essay “Writing the Reader’s Life” in Poets Teaching Poets: Self and the World, edited by Gregory Orr & Ellen Bryant Voigt (University of Michigan Press, 1996)