I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night.
Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you.
Don't let the wicked city get you down.
I want, I think, to be omniscient. I think I would like to call myself "the girl who wanted to be God." Yet if I were not in this body where would I be-perhaps I am destined to be classified and qualified. But, oh, I cry out against it.
I used to pray to recover you.
With that strange knowing that comes over me, like a clairvoyance, I know that I am sure of myself and my enormous and alarmingly timeless love for you; which will always be.