Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
Love, that is all I asked, a little love, daily, twice daily, fifty years of twice daily love like a Paris horse-butcher's regular, what normal woman wants affection?
God is love. Yes or no? No.
I want very much to be back in the caul, on my back in the dark forever.
We should have thought of it when the world was young, in the nineties.
It was long since I had longed for anything and the effect on me was horrible.