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.

And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.

There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.

The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole after peephole--- A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.

I am so hungry for a big smashing creative burgeoning burdened love.

Oh, something is there, waiting for me. Perhaps someday the revelation will burst in upon me and I will see the other side of this monumental grotesque joke. And then I'll laugh. And then I'll know what life is.

How we need another soul to cling to.