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What do I believe in
What is truth
I believe in myself
even my most delicate
intangible feelings
in the end everything is
intangible

[1951]

my love sleeps besides me—
in the faint light—l see his manly jaw
give away—and the mouth of his
boyhood returns
with a softness softer
its sensitiveness trembling
in stillness
his eyes must have look out
wonderously from the cave of the little
boy
[...]
but will he look like this when he is dead
oh unbearable fact inevitable
yet sooner would i rather his love die
than/or him?

P.S. In a few short days I’m sending you a reminder—to remind you of me mostly
........

Not a scared
lonely little girl
anymore


........

the more
I think of
it the more
I realize there
are no answers
life is to be
lived