We stayed at home to write, to consolidate our outstretched selves.

I write only because There is a voice within me That will not be still

What is so real as the cry of a child?

No day is safe from news of you.

All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.

I am what I feel and think and do.

How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.