I See Enormous Loves Growing

He Has, Like Me, A Sense Of Smell. I Let Him Inhale Me, Then I Slip Away.

His Life Rushes Onward In Such Torrential Rhythm That...only Angels And Devils Can Catch The Tempo Of It.

The Love Of Only One Man Or One Woman Is An Enclosure.

I Will Not Be Just A Tourist In A World Of Images.

She Had Acquired Some Of His Gypsy Ways, Some Of His Nonchalance, His Bohemian Indiscipline. She Had Swung With Him Into The Disorders Of Strewn Clothes, Spilled Cigarette Ashes, Slipping Into Bed All Dressed, Falling Asleep Thus, Indolence, Timelessness...a Region Of Chaos And Moonlight. She Liked It There.